The Pleasures of Shadows
by Telepathapprentice
Summary: RusAme, moderate gore. NSFW.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Hetalia**.

With a sharp scrape, the knife slid over the roughened edge before glimmering in the faint light, sparkling as Ivan twisted it in his hand. Watching as the light reflected into the darker corners of the room, he grinned lightly as a muffled moan of protest came from his companion, crouched beside the closet with a large case before him.

"Dude, stop that. You know it's annoying."

"You are annoying." He replied with a shrug, continuing to examine the blade. Finally, satisfied with his handiwork, he stood again to cross to the closet, crouching to draw level with Alfred. "I hope you are adequately prepared?"

"I'm more than prepared, man, I'm fuckin' ready to get started. Do you even have anything beside the knife?"

Ivan rolled his eyes, standing again. "The other knives, of course. And the scalpel, should we need it, and the pipe…I trust you to take care of the rest."

"Hey, as long as you grab the shovel, it really doesn't matter. I'm ready." Alfred stood, shrugging the duffel bag over his shoulder before zipping it up. "Get everything out of sight, and we'll go."

"I do know what I am doing. You are the idiot, remember."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Come on!" He beckoned impatiently, moving to the door, then relaxed as Ivan finally moved to follow. "I thought you'd never get a move on…"

"And miss the most important time of day? You are crazier than I thought."

"You think a lot of things, Russkii, but none of them are true." Alfred shrugged, glancing out at the darkened alleyway before setting off along it, Ivan following a few steps behind as they made their way into the main thoroughfare to weave between the various lights. Smoke hung heavily in the air as drunks stumbled from bars across the street, neon lights flickering pathetically in an attempt to penetrate the mists of the streets, and the pair was able to seamlessly blend into the scenery as they left the brighter areas of town. The sound of water running was eventually audible, and the two men walked up a small incline before stopping at the top of a brick bridge.

"Here again? Surely it has not been-"

"It's been six months, we'll be fine. Just as long as you don't make too much noise."

Ivan rolled his eyes, pulling a sleek metal pipe from inside his cloak as he went to the stone barrier. "You are the noisy one, as I said. No finesse."

"Who needs finesse? The poor bastards'll be dead anyway." Alfred followed the taller man, removing the bag from his shoulder before tossing it over to the concrete ridge below. Ivan moved to stand atop the barrier at the side of the bridge, staring into the darkness, then leapt down to follow the bag. A moment later, Alfred brought up the rear, stumbling slightly before Ivan extended a hand to steady him. "You found someone?"

"There are three here. Possibly two on the other side of the sewer." Ivan replied lowly, motioning with his head. "You deal with them."

"Got it, chief." He flashed a brilliant smile, saluting to the Russian, then crouched to remove something from the bag. With the sound of a splash, and then another of dripping water, Ivan waited to hear the sounds of two low screams, cut short with a thud. The body lying half-covered by a pile of rags nearest to him stirred slightly at the sound, then was yanked up as Ivan took him by the hair. The eyes visible in the darkness widened suddenly, and Ivan could hear the sharp intake of breath as he prepared to scream, but with a deft spin of the pipe, he knocked the man unconscious and left him on the ground. The two left sleeping barely even woke as he bashed their skulls in, one cracking audibly in the silence under the bridge, and Ivan dragged the bodies to the center of the ridge before beginning to clear them of their rags.

With a faint splash, Alfred reemerged from the water to join Ivan, glancing down at the bodies with a shrug. "You were right. Only the two over there."

"They are yours. Do what you will."

"Trust me, if I had been more prepared, I would have."

"Get me the light."

"Knew you'd get there eventually…" Alfred rolled his eyes, moving back to the duffel bag to toss a large flashlight to Ivan. He caught it quickly, snatching it from the air, then flicked it on to continue removing the clothes from the three bodies before him.

"Here is something different. We have a woman."

"Really? Under here? That's-"

"Different, yes. But no matter." Ivan shrugged, crouching to remove a small knife from the wrist of his coat. With a series of small, precise cuts, he removed the last of the fabric from the bodies before plunging the knife into the neck of the middle figure, pulling the blade downward before it hit the collarbone. The body jerked once, and the eyes flew open in sudden terror, but Ivan released the knife to take up his pipe once more, bringing it down on the man's crown to see the skull crumple. A drop of blood trailed down the forehead, and Ivan placed the pipe to the side as he studied the wound with a frown. "It is a shame. It is so much less…appealing this way."

"Makes it easier to get the brain, though."

"Brains are boring. Masses of lumpy mush. Who needs them?" To illustrate his point, Ivan began using another knife to prod the shards of bone, picking them out of the hair before tossing them into the water behind him. When there was a decent hole in the bone of the skull, he cautiously plunged his thumb into the opening, pressing down against the defunct organ. "See? Useless. No fun at all."

"If you insist. I thought you would've liked them, but…" Alfred shrugged, taking a small handsaw and a plain steak knife from the bag. "I'll be back in a while. Don't wait up."

"I never have." Ivan replied distractedly, removing the one knife from its resting place in the man's neck before setting it to the side. He used the flashlight to study his newest companion for a moment, tracing the outline of the body with a finger, then set the light atop the pile of clothing before resuming his work with the cooling corpse. Pulling one of the arms to him, he placed the knife against the vein before slicing along the skin to draw blood, tracing a line all the way up to the elbow. With a few quick movements, he was able to pull the skin back to expose the now bloody muscles of the forearm, an angry red in the light of the flashlight.

A sudden grin flashed across his expression, and he carefully used his index finger to carefully separate the stringy threads of muscle, ignoring the blood as it gushed out in a thick mass to trail across the man's abdomen and legs. Eventually, he let the hand fall to reclaim his knife, making a large slash across the man's torso before continuing down until he reached the navel, pulling the skin away with a sickening snap before examining the layers of muscle covering the internal organs. He could hear the sounds of Alfred's actions from across the way, creating a muffled orchestra to his own silent ministrations. With the knife in one hand, and the other coated with blood, he begin to trace designs across the lifeless body, pausing to paint the lips a deep flushed red before severing the head from the neck. Eventually, he finished with the one body to move on to the other, laying it flat on the concrete before slicing open the calf. Ignoring the blood that slowly poured out onto his shoes, he made a large incision into the back of the knee, pushing his fingers inside the opening before pulling hard on a stringy cord among the bones. The leg jumped once, spattering blood across the concrete, then went still when Ivan snapped the cord. Moving upwards along the body, he severed the man's genitals from the main mass of the body, tossing them aside before pulling out a mass of thick tissue from inside the newly-created cavity.

"You have way too much fun doing that." Alfred muttered, kicking the already disposed body. Ivan glanced at him momentarily, surprised at his quick return, then shrugged.

"It is why we come. You may watch, if you like." As Alfred shifted into position, Ivan extended his incision up the lower half of the man's body, pulling apart the revealed organs to eventually uncover the spine. When he reached the hands, he turned the arm over once to examine the wear on the man's calluses, then sliced up from the wrist until his knife met bone.

"Honestly. It's actually boring just watching you."

"I saved the best for last. The girl is over there." Ivan motioned with his head, still concentrating on the man's hand. Alfred shrugged, standing, then eventually moved to uncover the body, running his eyes down the figure with a low whistle.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Basic cut. Collarbone to pubic bone." Ivan smiled faintly, eventually exhaling softly as he pulled the heart from the chest cavity. "You look lovely."

"You like it? I stuck with the usual." Alfred shrugged, following Ivan's instructions to split the body cleanly in two. "I noticed you didn't go with any on their stomach this time."

"It is known as 'supine'." Ivan specified, standing to approach the body. "Was she pretty?"

"Eh." Alfred shrugged, rocking back on the balls of his feet. "Coulda been, I suppose. Anyway. What are you going to do?"

"Not much. Simply-" Crouching beside the girl's waist, Ivan poked at the skin at her navel, peeling it back with the tip of his knife to shrug. "It is different. A girl is always interesting."

"Oh. Right. I forget you like that kind of stuff." Alfred watched as Ivan carefully exposed the uterus of the cooling body, prodding it experimentally, then stood. "Well? We done here?"

Eventually, Ivan nodded and followed suit, looking to Alfred. "You have the proper equipment, I trust."

"Of course."


	2. Chapter 2

**Slash sex in this chapter. Turn back now if you wish.**

The bodies were stuffed into a variety of garbage bags Alfred had left in the bottom of the duffel bag, and a trash heap further down the river provided an adequate hiding place. Sheltered from the main road, Ivan was able to dig a small depression in which they placed the bags, laying the garbage back over them to create a makeshift grave. Alfred scowled at the dirt on his hands, but Ivan simply shook his head at the American's ridiculousness and shouldered the duffel bag, weaving his way through the streets once more to lead his companion back to their small apartment. The crowds had thinned considerably by this point, letting their soiled appearance go relatively unnoticed, and finally they reached the small wooden door that represented their abode, Ivan setting the duffel bag to one side while Alfred stretched in relief.

"Back home. Back here, again."

"You sound disappointed." Ivan remarked, opening the closet to begin hanging his pipe, the shovel, and various pieces of Alfred's equipment up on small hooks. "I thought you liked this place."

"I do. It's perfect. I…hm." Alfred shrugged, approaching his companion. "It means a lot to me, here. This place, as you call it."

Ivan didn't reply, simply concentrating on his work as Alfred drew closer. Eventually, he felt Alfred's hand on his shoulder, and let his hands drop, going still as Alfred slowly twined his arms around the Russian's neck to let them rest against his chest.

"Alfred."

"Ivan."

With a slow grin, Alfred tugged Ivan backwards, pulling the taller man away from the closet so that they ended up in the middle of the room. They stood there for a brief moment, unmoving, before Ivan carefully moved to face his companion, placing his hands on Alfred's waist.

"You know, it's amazing you haven't gotten that jacket all bloody yet."

"Hydrogen peroxide is a wonderful thing. And I take good care of it." Shifting against him, Ivan moved to take off the heavy garment, tossing it over the back of a chair before returning his attention to Alfred. He grinned suddenly, holding up one hand, then carefully traced over Alfred's lips with his thumb, leaving faint red streaks from the yet-undried blood. "As I take good care of you."

"Oh, shut up. I do all the work in this arrangement. You just talk and talk-"

"Ah, Alfred, again with the utter lack of finesse. Have all our excursions been for nothing?"

"I'm not sure it's the outside activities we have so much to worry about, Vanya." Alfred mirrored his grin, reaching up to take Ivan's collar before kissing him suddenly, pulling him back towards the open door of the bedroom. Ivan eagerly complied, keeping one hand on Alfred's waist as he stepped forward, then reached behind him to carefully pull the door closed as they nearly fell inside the small room.

"I have told you not to call me Vanya, little Alfred." With a wry smile, he pulled at Alfred to lean back against the wall, letting his companion press against him.

"Hey, if you can call me 'little', I get to call you whatever the hell I want." Placing his hands against the wall, Alfred frowned slightly as he looked to Ivan, eventually moving to place his hand at the Russian's collar. "Am I still all bloody?"

"Oh, yes. All streaked and tattooed…" Ivan nodded as he mumbled, reaching up to run his hands into Alfred's lightly colored hair before tracing the trails of blood with one finger as Alfred began to undo the first few of his buttons, pulling the fabric away from Ivan's skin before making a quiet noise of impatience. Ivan glanced down at him, slightly surprised, then grasped Alfred's triceps tightly to push the other man back, leading them to the bed before pushing Alfred back onto the top sheet. Propping himself on his elbows, Alfred opened his mouth to speak before glancing down at his resting place with a shrug. Ivan grinned, taking a step back in order to remove his shirt completely before balling it up and tossing it aside. "See. I do not forget everything."

"Yeah, well-so you remembered to change the sheets. Good for you." Alfred made a show of rolling his eyes, but sat up to copy Ivan in order to set his t-shirt to one side.

"Too bad. I liked that shirt."

"You say that every week. I'll wear it again, you know. Don't have your finesse, remember?"

"Ah, right. The constant rotation of all your blood-stained shirts…do you ever replace them?"

"Nope. No point." As he spoke, Alfred began undoing the clasp of his belt, sliding it off before working open his fly. Ivan watched him for a moment, a light smile on his face, then drew closer as Alfred stretched back along the bed. Fumbling with the nightstand, Alfred finally managed to retrieve a tube of clear gel, handing the bottle to Ivan before adjusting his position.

Ivan paused, setting the bottle to one side before moving to pull Alfred's pants down and away, quickly doing the same with his boxers to leave Alfred naked on the bed. Alfred simply grinned darkly, shifting to face Ivan more completely, then glanced at Ivan's crotch. Taking the hint, Ivan raised an eyebrow before moving to undo his own fly, unbuttoning the clasp and momentarily letting gravity pull the fabric down.

However, still clad in his boxers, Ivan placed a knee between Alfred's legs against the bed before taking the bottle in one hand to open it gingerly, coating the fingers of his free hand with the lube inside before running the fingers down the inside of Alfred's thigh. Alfred frowned slightly, lifting his hips to meet Ivan's hand, then whimpered slightly as Ivan finally reached his hardening member.

"Complaining, Alfred? This is different."

"So? Sue me. Get going already." Alfred muttered, shifting against the bed.

Ivan simply shook his head, smiling faintly, then carefully ran his hand along Alfred's erection, teasing the head lightly with his thumb before pulling away. Alfred let his hips fall back against the sheets, beginning to pant lightly, then closed his eyes as Ivan's slick fingers came to tease at his entrance.

"T-Tell me…what I look like."

"You…hm. The blood is still fresh." As he spoke, he touched a reddish stain near Alfred's waist, trailing his fingers across the skin to create ruddy streaks.

"I know that, I can smell it."

"Hot and red, rusty and bitter-"

"Yeah, yeah, besides that!"

"I can still see your ribs beneath your skin….you should do something about that."

"I don't much care, Ivan…" Alfred leaned his head back, biting his lip, as Ivan began tracing the outline of his sternum with one finger, still slick with both the lube and moistened blood. Their talking quickly ceased as Ivan made his way over the entirety of Alfred's chest, then moved to cup his chin as he positioned himself on the bed. One hand moved to push down the last remaining piece of fabric, Ivan's boxers, then came to rest at Alfred's waist, propping him up while his free hand returned to its ministrations at Alfred's entrance.

After a brief moment, Alfred gasped as Ivan entered him quickly, a rush of heat shooting through the both of them. Opening his eyes wide, he glanced down at the man between his legs, expression hovering between an eager grin and a horrified scowl.

"God, Ivan, that hurt! What are you-"

"You still complain, malyutka?" Ivan grinned predatorily, positioning himself above Alfred to continue thrusting into him. "You like this, the pain, the blood, the scream-"

As if on cue, Alfred shuddered visibly and reached up to pull Ivan closer, bucking his hips upward. "Damn you, Ivan."

"And damn you, little devil."

With a mixture of bites and kisses, the friction between them grew ever stronger, Alfred finally releasing across their abomens with a tortured moan. Ivan followed soon after, bowing his head against Alfred's chest, then paused to catch his breath as the world came back into focus. Eventually, Alfred reached down to shove him away, wincing slightly as Ivan pulled out of him. He slowly made his way off the side of the bed, standing shakily, then waved vaguely in Ivan's direction.

"I'm gonna take a shower. You…do what you do." As he disappeared into the other room, Ivan carefully stood, pulling back the top sheet, then moved to reclaim his boxers before climbing into the bed. Eventually, as his eyes adjusted to the small amount of light coming from the bathroom, and the rhythmic sound of the water running, he fell into a drowsy sleep, only barely noting as the water shut off, the light flickered out, and a naked body came to rest beside him beneath the covers. With the muted sounds of the drunken city filtering in from outside, the strange pair fell asleep, warmed by the other and high off their own ambrosia.


	3. Chapter 3

Life had its routines, its little patterns, and Ivan and Alfred had quickly learned how to work within the system. They knew life held little for them, but when they met….they decided to make the most of it. Alfred worked a day job as a busboy, pulling in minimum wage as he carted people's luggage to and fro within the posh interior of an inner-city hotel. Ivan, on the other hand, scraped by working when he felt like it at a local pharmacy, which dealt in the reasonable merchandise out front while handing out certain 'specials' to regulars at the back. Together, they managed to pay rent, live off of the barest essentials (together with whatever leftovers Alfred could wrangle from the kitchens) and focused their energies into their joined passion. The hunt, the kill, the study-they called it many things over their time together, but in the end it was the same for both of them. Alfred would hack and chop and beat the bodies black and blue, watching the blood run into the sewers, while Ivan would carefully crouch beside the corpses, toying with the strings of muscle and bone with his musings.

Granted some amount of protection by the quarters they chose to occupy, they made little effort to hide their equipment, stowing it in a closet more for convenience than out of necessity. However, when Alfred returned one night with a crumpled newspaper in his hand, Ivan paused, looking up from where he sat. "You are…troubled."

"Damn right I am. I saw…something. Here." Unrolling the paper, Alfred shoved the newprint under Ivan's nose, pointing to an article. "Three bodies found. Dismembered, two with the brains removed-sound familiar?"

Ivan paused momentarily, reading the article, then shrugged and sat back. "That was three months ago. We wore gloves. They will find nothing."

"But it brings their attention to this neighborhood! They know where to start looking!"

"Alfred, we have certain liberties in your country. They will not search here unless they have reasonable suspicion. And we will not give them reasonable suspicion. Will we?" Eyeing Alfred cautiously, Ivan slowly stood, setting his own magazine aside. Alfred shrugged, unexpectedly ashamed.

"Nah, 'course we won't…I was-"

"You were being ridiculous."

"I was being cautious. But you have a point. I just-"

"You leapt to conclusions. It is what you do. You are rather…spontaneous that way." Nodding, Ivan ruffled the blond's already messy hair, moving into the bathroom. "Put it from your mind. Everything will go on as it always does. Relax."

Ivan's words mollified Alfred for some time, and life did indeed return to normal, but a knock on the door one afternoon brought Alfred's fears into a more distinct light. As he was the only one in the apartment, Alfred was the one to answer the door, squinting into the sunlight. "What do you want?"

"I simply want to speak with you, Mr. Jones, is it? Yes, Jones, I-well, I'm simply asking a few questions here and there around the neighborhood, seeing how everything is, if you're worried at all-" Clad in a trim suit, the shorter man held up a pad of paper and a pen, smiling minutely at the scruffy blond. "If you don't want to talk, that's fine, but-"

"You're….asking questions? Hasn't anyone told you to keep your nose out of other people's business?"

"Yes, well, I'm from the city, and you must understand-" Pulling out his wallet, the man flashed a shimmering badge, blinding Alfred further. "Your business is our business, quote unquote. Now-have you seen any suspicious characters lately?"

"Only you." Grunting, Alfred moved to close the door, but a movement from the other man made him tense.

"I see your lodging is rather, well, unkempt. Do you live here alone?"

"Nope. Got a roommate. Bigger than I am and easier to piss off. Now get out."

"Just a moment, Mr. Jones, I'm only asking. Now, I can only assume you've heard about the bodies found-"

"I don't fucking care. Get out."

"But aren't you worried, even slightly concerned that-"

"Shut up!" Whirling to face him, Alfred moved to punch his unwanted companion in the stomach, but hesitated just in time to see the man whiten in fear. Alfred suddenly realized his position, and carefully lowered his fist, hurriedly hiding his hand in his pocket. He turned back inside, slamming the door behind him, and heard a faint "Thank you for your time!" from outside. Pathetic low-life. Ever the city's servant, it seemed.

However, the intrusion set Alfred on edge, a change not unnoticed by Ivan when he returned. Although he never asked, Alfred slowly told the story over their fold-out table, shrugging as he dumped his plate into the sink. "It weirded me out. Sorry. But they're getting closer."

Ivan shrugged, sipping at his coffee. "It is of no matter. We are no one. They do not care about us. We will be lost in the masses of people, and they will move on. Calm yourself."

"But-" Alfred began to protest, finally giving up. "Fine. But if we end up in jail…"

"We won't. Go to bed." With a firm nod, Ivan stood, putting his cup in the sink as well before moving to follow Alfred. "I promise-nothing will happen to us. Nothing at all."


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred's fear eventually proved greater than Ivan's pacification, and the atmosphere inside the dingy apartment became one of skittish haste and desperate concealment. Alfred became stringent in hiding their "equipment", and it was a testament to his worry that he didn't even respond when Ivan made a veiled threat involving other kinds of equipment. The American began wearing less and less of his t-shirts, and instead stayed in his work uniform most of the day. Unfortunately, Ivan took little notice of such precautions, and it was he that decided to continue their weekly activities, leaving without Alfred to return late at night, blood-stained and sullen.

The two of them hardly spoke any longer, and so it was three days until Alfred finally learned of a second visit by their beloved city's servants.

"What? There was another one?"

"Yes. Tall, and unfriendly. He asked me about my pipe."

"You mean you left the damn thing laying around? Ivan, how much of an idiot can you be?"

"You are the idiot, malyutka, not me. He noticed nothing. Accepted that it was a memento. It will be nothing more."

Alfred sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, slowly nodding. "Fine. Whatever. Do what you want." A long silence extended between them, a distant ticking reminding them of the passage of time, until Alfred spoke again. "If they do connect one of them to you, it'll be easy for them to connect the rest. You don't mess around."

Ivan shrugged. "I take a professional interest in what we do. And I have the knowledge at my disposal-why not use it?"

Alfred chuckled harshly, sitting up before moving to wash the dishes. "You know, I've always wondered about that…how did you end up in that lowbrow pharmacy, anyway? Obviously, you work well as hired muscle, but whenever we hunt, you…toy with them. Play with them. Study them, even. Did you-"

"I went to school for medicine."

"Yeah, I know. Then you dropped out?"

"Failed a class, here and there. Cultural studies. Communications. Writing." Ivan made a face, then stood.

"So you just-abandoned it altogether? Went for the pharmaceutical degree instead?"

"Yes. Surgery was never an option for me. This way, at least, I do not forget."

"Forget? Dude, the first time we went you knew what you were doing. Don't tell me you did solos before me."

"A few. My sister…well, we covered for each other. I rarely killed back then, though."

"Oh. Right. Your batshit crazy sister. I forget about her." Alfred nodded.

"In any case, it does not matter. You hide things well-we will be fine." With a firm nod, Ivan moved into the other room, beginning to undress.

"You keep saying that, Russkii….so why do I not feel convinced?" Alfred mumbled to himself, setting the last plate aside before reluctantly moving to follow his companion. Ivan stood to one side of the bed, watching him, then slowly moved to approach him, placing his hands on Alfred's shoulders.

"Ivan…."

"Malyutka."

"No. Not-no."

"But we do this every week. Do not tell me you are suddenly…squeamish."

"It's not that, just…"

"You start this, usually. Come, now. You honestly do not want me?"

Alfred winced, turning to face him. "Ivan, it's not like that, it's just-I didn't come this week, and you-we-we always do it afterwards, and I didn't this week, so-"

"Ah. I forget. Did we ever decide what it was that truly aroused you?" Letting his voice take on a contemplative tone, Ivan cupped Alfred's chin and pretended to study him. Alfred, however, shoved his hand away and stalked off, folding his arms.

"It's not funny, Ivan. I said no, and I mean it. I'm not in the mood."

"Fine, then. I can accept that." Ivan nodded, watching him, then returned to his side of the bed. Alfred paused, slowly relaxing, then changed into his own nightwear before similarly climbing under the sheets. Scooting back into the curve of Ivan's body, he curled into a ball and fell into a troubled sleep, Ivan's arm lying over him to ensconce him in a world of blankets and body.

**o**

Ivan's predictions turned out mostly true, as another week went by without further incident, and Alfred slowly began to relax. However, his skittishness prevented him from joining Ivan the second time he took an "excursion", and so he sat restlessly in the apartment as he waited for the Russian to return. The silence of the apartment slowly made the usually loud man jittery, and by the time he heard a key in the lock he was nearly shaking. Leaping forward, he almost collided with Ivan as the larger man ducked into the darkened room, and Alfred hurriedly stepped back to let Ivan inside.

"Get in. Close the door, quickly." Bloodstained and hunched over, Ivan motioned for him to hurry and dashed into the other room, peeling his jacket off at last before pulling his shirt off. Alfred hesitated, closing the door quietly before doing up the latch, then raced to join him, eyes wide.

"Ivan! What the hell happened!"

"I was seen. It happens." Ivan shrugged, tossing his shirt into the sink before beginning to search the medicine cabinet.

"Seen? Ivan, what-how could you let this happen?"

"I did not have you planning my excursions. I made a mistake." Cursing under his breath, Ivan pulled out an unmarked bottle, sprinkling the solution inside onto his shirt. "I was weak. Having to rely on you for such a simple task-"

"Why the fuck did you let it happen! You ruined it, Russkii, ruined everything, and now they'll know! We won't be able to show our faces ever again, nowhere, and they'll find us and we'll die-"

"Shut up." Glaring at him, Ivan straightened, running the water in the sink. "We will be fine. They are the insects, and we are the wolves, and we will crush them like the dust mites they are. They cannot touch us. We will survive."

"You say that, you always say that, but now you've been seen! They'll figure it out!" Desperate, Alfred came to look Ivan in the eyes, barely a few inches from his face.

"So what? We can do this, Alfred, if you keep a level head. Calm down."

"I can't, Ivan, can't you get that? This might all be over!"

Ivan shook his head, sighing as he pulled his shirt from the sink. "Fine. Think that way. But if your panic gets us arrested-"

"It won't. Just-" Alfred copied him, sighing before moving into the bedroom. "Let's be careful, okay?"

"Yes. Careful. As we always are." Ivan confirmed, following him before turning out the light, letting them fall into the anonymity of darkness as they both fell into bed and went to sleep, exhausted.

**(*Malyutka: little one)**


	5. Chapter 5

Some would have called it luck. Others, happenstance, or destiny. Yet others, coincidence, or even the hand of God. However, for Ivan and Alfred, the next day was simply one of the worst misfortune, and it was a simple matter of timing that left both of them at the apartment when the knock sounded.

Shoddily dressed and only half-awake, Ivan motioned for Alfred to get the door as he tried to find anything in the apartment to eat. Alfred himself was barely into his work uniform as he hurried to the door, yanking it open to stare in shock at the well-suited man standing there.

"Hello." With a cool, even tone, the man glanced about the apartment, noting the dingy conditions without condescension, though he did hesitate before stepping inside. Ivan copied Alfred's stare as the man entered, then came to his senses before scowling. "Get out."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I can't. You see, I'm here officially-" Pulling out a sheet of paper from a small folio, he held it towards Ivan, then shrugged. "This is a search warrant, if you must know. I request your permission to search the premises, but should you not give it let me make it quite clear that I will not tolerate to utilize my full legal power."

Alfred and Ivan glanced at each other, but said nothing, watching hawkishly as the man peered into the corners of the room.

"What…What evidence-what grounds do you have for such an investigation?"

"Well, my good sir, there was the simple fact that you were out and about at an extremely unusual hour-" Spinning on his heel, the man looked to Ivan with a beady glare. "And covered in blood. How do you account for that?"

Ivan made a show of rolling his eyes, leaning against the counter. "I was drunk. I had fallen into one of the sewers and had a hell of a time getting out. Would I be arrested for that?"

"Not in this district, no, but the detective on duty noted that you headed straight here-and exhibited no signs of drunkenness. Rather, some searching last night revealed a corpse lying beneath a landfill within only two miles of here, in the direction from which you were returning. Tell me, do you make a habit of killing or is it a recreational hobby?"

"I resent the implication that-" Ivan straightened, tensing, but hesitated as Alfred moved behind the strange man.

"As a law-abiding citizen, I'm sure you wouldn't object to a quick search of the premises, just to make sure you don't have any prohibited weapons, yes?" The man smiled slowly, stepping forward, but stopped short as the back of his skull suddenly shattered. A mixture of shock and pain registered for a brief moment before another blow sent him plunging to the floor, landing with a thud to leave a trembling Alfred holding Ivan's pipe.

Ivan looked to Alfred with eyes wide, nodding slowly. "That…"

"I didn't…I shouldn't have done that, I…"

"You were a damn fool!" Fists clenching, Ivan strode over to Alfred, yanking the pipe from his hand before glancing down at the body. "If you had not done anything, he might have left after a moment or two! Damn it, now they will know where he was going-they will know he came here, and begin-"

"I-I'm sorry, he was moving and he didn't notice me and-oh god, it's so much harder with live ones-is he really-"

"You nearly hit the spinal cord. And with your strength, well, I doubt anything could save him. He only had a few seconds." Ivan shrugged, pausing as he focused on the body. "Find a suitcase."

"What?"

"I said, find a suitcase. Use the one we keep the knives in, I do not care, just get as many of our things as you can. We are traveling light. Anything we can replace, do not pack. Wear as much as you can."

"U-Um…right. Okay." Nodding, Alfred dashed into the other room, leaving Ivan to study the corpse before crouching beside it. He pulled a sleek leather wallet from the pocket, flicking through business cards to remove the wad of dollar bills, then paused as he glanced at the identification.

"Ah. So he was a detective." Standing again, Ivan tossed the wallet onto the man's back, moving to begin clearing out their closets. The furniture, obviously, they didn't need, and the magazines were just waste anyway…Alfred emerged after some time, carrying a few bags, then looked to Ivan.

"Are we taking the…you know, all the stuff?"

"No. The knives and saws would be noticed. And the pipe is a liability anywhere. We will have to start from scratch."

Alfred slowly nodded, heading for the door. "So, um…you want me to get a taxi? There's not much more-"

"Yes. Go ahead. An….excellent plan." Ivan nodded, motioning to him, then tugged on his jacket before doing a final sweep of the apartment. Alfred cautiously left, letting the door fall closed, while Ivan made his way to the kitchen. Running his hands over his pipe one last time, he swung downwards with all his might to hear the hissing sound of leaking gas, a pipe beneath the stove bent nearly in two. He gathered the last of his things, tucking them under his arm, then grabbed a matchbook from a kitchen drawer. Dashing to the door, he opened it and paused to light a single match, tossing it onto the carpet before pulling the door shut and fleeing outside.

Alfred was awaiting him nervously, beckoning to him as a taxi thrummed beside the curb. "Where were you, Russkii, the driver was-"

"Never mind about the driver. Get in." Shoving the shorter man inside, Ivan crawled into the backseat and beckoned for the driver to set off. They had barely pulled away from the curb, however, when a loud sound from behind them made Alfred turn around, eyes wide as he saw the first of the flames begin to burst from the windowframe.

"Ivan-"

"Shut up." Leaning forward, Ivan handed a wad of bills to the driver, nodding once as he accepted the money and drove ever faster. They had managed to escape the ghetto, entering a less shady part of town, by the time the driver thought to speak, asking them for their destination.

"The airport."

"The what?"

"You heard me, Alfred. We are leaving." Ivan nodded, leaning back, and ignored Alfred's face as they neared their destination, the American dumbfounded as he slowly realized the extent of their situation.

**O**

Finally, a few hours later and a great deal more exhausted than they had hoped to be, Ivan and Alfred had boarded a plane with the barest of their worldly possessions. While Alfred tossed restlessly in his own seat, Ivan read quietly to himself, ignoring the American until the blond turned to him.

"Ivan?" Alfred's voice was barely above a whisper, and Ivan had to strain to hear him.

"What."

"We….killed a man."

"We often do, silly."

"Yeah, but….they're after us now, aren't they. We're on the run."

"I would not say so. We are leaving until the fuss dies down. Staying with relatives. It will all be over, and we can move back."

"But we'll have to go to a different city, right? They'll be on their guard-"

"There was a reason you wanted to stay? You were attached to that city for some reason?"

Alfred shrugged, sitting back. "My parents were buried there. But I guess it really isn't that big of a deal."

"Exactly. No reason to fret. Trust me, by this time next year everything will be as it was." Smiling faintly, Ivan looked up from his book. "We will stay with my sister. You will like her. And then, when we get news, we will return. It is a plan. And we will abide by it, yes?"

"Yeah. A….good plan." Alfred nodded, sinking into his seat, then closed his eyes again in a final attempt to find sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

With a low whine, the airplane eventually touched down onto the tarmac, coming to a stop to deposit its passengers at the terminal. Among the unusually quiet throng of people, Ivan and Alfred wove their way through the various ribbons and barriers to collect their bags. Neither spoke a word to the other, Ivan with his head down as he strode quickly through the airport, and generally ignoring Alfred's wide-eyed trepidation. Eventually they made it out to the street, and Ivan moved to a bench to set his bags down.

"Ivan?"

"What." Unzipping the top, Ivan began sorting through his hastily assembled possessions, thinking quietly to himself.

"Where the hell are we?"

"Where?" Straightening, Ivan gestured to the city before them, one hand resting atop his bag. "Welcome to Russia."

"No duh." Alfred rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets as he surveyed the city. "I got that when all the street signs were in Russian. And, you know, the international transfer-and the passports-and the huge fucking ocean-I'm not a total idiot, Ivan!"

Ivan paused, carefully zipping his bag back up. "We are still in the eastern side-the eastern coast. In fact, you may be able to see China from here. This is Vladivostok. A port city."

"And…your sister's gonna meet us here?"

"No. She was lucky enough to stay in Moscow."

"So we're going to Moscow."

"Eventually. Do you like…trains?"

"Trains?" Alfred paused, glancing to Ivan. "Don't tell me we're crossing this entire damn country by train."

"Is that a problem?"

"Um…no. I guess not. We'll just stay here for a while, keep our heads down, and head back in a few months?"

Ivan nodded, lifting his bag to continue walking. "Yes. You may want to stay close….whether or not someone knows English is a toss-up. Usually you will get lucky. But still-do not go too far."

Alfred indicated his agreement, glancing around at their surroundings. "So…near China? What's stopping us from going there?"

"I do not know Chinese." Both Alfred and Ivan smiled faintly, and turned onto a side street as Ivan directed them, following the small signs pointing along the roads.

o

Yao leaned against the wall of the alley, studying the faces of the two-well, really the single-foreigner as they strode past his post. They seemed unafraid-so they didn't know he was here. That was a bonus in his arena. The American made no effort to conceal himself-making both of them ever easier to follow. Granted, simply asking around for an American who didn't know Russian wouldn't exactly yield profitable results-but Yao had gotten lucky. He had monitored this airport, among others, ever since he heard the reports. International police weren't overly concerned about the matter currently, but Yao was certain it would come to light soon.

Explosives-they at least went out with a flash. No sense of dignity, or style, but they were showy. That must have been the American's influence. As Yao kept abreast of the reports coming in from across the ocean, the waters surrounding the two fugitives seemed to get muddier and muddier. They hid their bodies-signs of preparation, and foresight. But they didn't keep the bodies in their home-either they tired quickly of their "sport", or they were sane enough to be concerned about hygiene. The murders were random-yet most of the bodies showed signs of great detail and concentration. The pair themselves were a strange couple. Yao couldn't quite read them. But it didn't matter; they had committed crimes, and it was his job to track them down. Done and done.

Stepping forward from his alleyway, he began to follow the weaving trail of the two murderers, discreetly watching as they made their way to a local hotel. One went inside, while the other came out soon after to continue walking, glancing over the street signs and logos above his head. Yao hesitated momentarily before deciding to follow the moving target, leaving the other in the hotel. Then again, that would be a better plan…if they had decided from the first to split up, thus creating a diversion and necessitating more people. Did he need backup?

Considering he wasn't really authorized to take this case, he decided against the latter course of action. His closer friends knew he was investigating, but no one with the proper authority knew that he was spending his free time watching these two. If it was even these two who were the suspects. They certainly fit the profile, and looked strong enough to commit the crimes…but that was not evidence. And if he arrested the wrong people, that promotion could be pushed even farther away.

He shrugged to himself, then continued to weave between the people in his way, keeping his eyes ever trained on the taller man. These had to be the guys. He was sure of it.

o

Ivan cursed as he closed the door behind him, entering the hotel room before tossing a few small pamphlets on the bed. Seated beside the window, Alfred glanced up to face him as he stood, afraid to disturb the other. "Ivan? What happened?"

"More bodies were found. That is the bad news. And they-the destruction of the apartment was not total. They found the single body."

"Yeah, about that-" Folding his arms, Alfred frowned. "Why did you go and blow up the place? We could have just left him there-"

"They might have assumed we had died in the explosion as well! We would be totally blameless. A simple matter of new identification, and we would be back where we started. They could have pursued other leads, let the case die…" Ivan ran a hand through his hair, beginning to pace.

"You sound like you know a lot about this stuff. Are you sure you should have aimed for doctor?"

"You must know how these people think. How they act. My sister taught me that much."

"So….they know we aren't dead. So what?"

"They will soon know we are also no longer in the country. Which means we are hiding. Which-damn it!"

"But that's what we are doing, aren't we? We don't want to get caught!"

"But that will mean we are guilty! Irreparable proof that we are the perpetrators. If we had stayed we might have been able to fool them."

"Really. With a missing apartment and a dead policeman on our hands."

"Detective, actually."

"Whatever. Point is, despite all our show, we would never have been able to pull it off."

"Because you messed up! You had to go and-"

"Fine, yes, I made a mistake! I panicked! It's a thing I do! You didn't have to blow up the apartment!"

"We were already on the run. Our course was inevitable." Ivan shrugged, calming slightly before sitting on the edge of the bed. "We can only continue on. They do not know we left the country…"

"Good point. We should be okay. Hell, we might even be able to take up some…other recreational activities while we're here. You'll have to show me around, though."

Ivan glanced to him, raising an eyebrow, then nodded. "We could try."

"A whole new country…" Alfred slowly grinned, looking out the window. "A totally new realm."


	7. Chapter 7

**If anyone has input regarding the direction of the plot or has requests for more of something, don't hesitate to drop a note or a review. **

**And, as always, I don't own Hetalia.**

The next few days of their visit were uneventful-Ivan would leave in the mornings, disappear for an hour or two, return to show Alfred around the bustling city, and they would wander back to the hotel late at night. Alfred learned to ask few questions, as Ivan would rarely give him a straight answer, so when the Russian invited him along one morning, he was more than slightly curious.

"Is this the same place you've been going to all this time?"

"Yes."

"So…"

"So what?"

"What are we doing here?"

"We are-" Ivan hesitated, glancing behind him before turning a corner. "It is nothing important."

"You've abandoned me in that stupid hotel for three days in a row! It has to be important!"

"Keep your voice down, idiot, or we could both be in trouble." Tugging him into an alley, Ivan approached a dingy door, knocking twice before entering. Alfred stumbled after him, glancing up before letting his mouth fall open in surprise. "What-"

"Good. This the guy?" In front of Alfred, a chair spun around to reveal a short pale man with Asian features, hands folded as he studied Alfred. Ivan simply nodded in response to the question, and led Alfred forward so that the other man could get a better look at him in the dim light. Several monitors seemed to make up part of the wall behind the man's chair, and a few flashing lights distracted Alfred momentarily before he returned his attention to the man before him.

"Um, Ivan-who's he?"

"This is-"

"Kiku Honda, at your service." The man nodded quickly, turning to begin typing at one of the monitors. "Ivan here's enlisted my assistance."

"He is being paid well." Ivan muttered, shrugging half-heartedly.

"Wait, so-what exactly is he doing? Why do we need him?"

"Because from what I can gather, you two are wanted men. At least, Alfred Jones and Ivan Braginsky are wanted men. However-" A picture of Alfred flashed up on the screen, and the blonde stepped forward to examine the picture better. "Let's see….Timothy Carter and Nikolai Volkov aren't wanted."

"I'm afraid I don't-"

"I'm getting you out of jail. A simple matter of identification, and you're free to go. These should be ready by tomorrow, now that I have a picture of you-"

"Wait! How did you get a picture of me?"

"There's cameras everywhere in here. Please. It wasn't so hard. I even altered it so it doesn't match the mug they're broadcasting."

"Whoa." Alfred slowly nodded, impressed, then glanced to Ivan. "How did you even find this guy?"

"This address used to belong to an old associate. It took some time to locate, but Mr. Honda has proved more than amiable."

"I scratch your back, you scratch mine. As soon as these are ready, you can get out of town."

Ivan nodded, then moved to take Alfred's arm again, practically dragging him outside. Alfred sputtered slightly, annoyed, but finally fell into line beside Ivan.

"What did he mean? I mean, I know we're heading to-" He suddenly lowered his voice, glancing around. "Moscow, but….we get ID's, and he gets nothing?"

"As I said. I am paying him. And I will do him a favor once we get to Moscow."

"A…favor?"

"It is none of your concern. Stay out of it."

"Ivan, we're in this thing as a team! We've always been a team, ever since we met! I can't believe you'd just act like this, on your own and leave me behind to-" Suddenly, Ivan turned to pull Alfred close to him, firmly placing his lips against Alfred's before roughly sliding his tongue into the American's mouth. With few options available, Alfred quieted immediately as he slowly relaxed into the kiss, matching Ivan's force. After a few heartbeats, Ivan pulled away again, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before looking to Alfred.

"Trust me. I have arranged things for the both of us, and you need not worry. Can you promise me that?"

"Um….y-yeah, I guess…" Breathless, Alfred stared at his companion, unsure of how to respond. "We'll be okay?"

"We will be fine. We will find my sister. And we will be free." Ivan smiled faintly, motioning to him, then began walking again, his large strides carrying him quickly back to their hotel. Alfred trailed behind, quieted, and glanced behind them every so often as the feeling of being watched tugged at his mind. However, they finally reached their temporary abode, and Alfred gratefully fell inside, pulled along as Ivan led him back to their room.

**Sorry this one took so long.**


	8. Chapter 8

As the city stilled in the early hours of morning, Yao finally stumbled into the alley, glancing up to see a small door at the end. He half-smiled in relief, leaning against a wall for support, then turned to fully lean against the cold brick, panting lightly. He had been out here all night, combing the city for those two. Over and under and around every street corner, he had been watching. Following. Waiting and wondering just what they were doing. And now, finally, he had made it. This was the place that tall one went all the time. They had to be running something here, something dangerous and illegal-and it was his job to stop it.

He congratulated himself silently, still smiling. He had to get a promotion for this. He had gone above and beyond the call of duty, tracking down international criminals-murderers, even. To see the look on Soon's face as he dragged in the perpetrators…it would all be worth it. Yao lost himself in daydreams, leaning his head back against the wall, and didn't even notice the man who ducked out of the door. Carrying a small folder, the shorter man looked to Yao in confusion, hesitating momentarily, then passed him with a shake of the head and made his way out into the street. Yao ignored him in turn-he wasn't really that important, after all. His prey would return here tomorrow, if all went well, and then he could catch them. Quick, easy, and simple.

He could already see the new badge on his chest.

O

Ivan shook his head as he led Alfred back along the streets, having to forcefully pull the other man along at multiple occasions. Far from the apparent apathy Alfred had adopted for their first few days in the city, he was now over-excite. Whether by the fact that they were leaving Vladivostok, or simply by the intrigue of it all, Ivan couldn't tell, but he was forced to tolerate the American like he would a large, persistent puppy.

"So, Ivan, you think this Honda guy can do what he said?"

"I would not have hired him otherwise."

"But if it all works out, we'll be fine!"

"That is rather the point, yes."

"We'll be doing something, instead of sitting here on our asses, getting closer to-"

"You are…" Ivan shook his head again, tugging him into the alley from before. "You never act this way. We are simply getting new identification."

"But we'll be free! Things can go back to normal-well, as normal as possible, and we'll go back to-"

"This is about the hunt? You are so obsessed with that that you must…" Ivan sighed, opening the door to shove Alfred inside. "Shut up and stop fidgeting. We will leave in five minutes if you are lucky."

True to his word, five minutes later the door opened to let Alfred and Ivan stumble out again, Alfred grinning.

"So. That was fun."

"You made yourself look like an idiot."

"You didn't pay him that much."

"I have said-it will be taken care of. Leave it alone."

"Both of you! Stay where you are!" Blocking their exit from the alley, Yao stood with his gun pointed at the two men, expression grim. "You are under arrest for the murder and desecration of numerous victims, and for fleeing the law!"

Ivan and Alfred glanced at each other. Alfred shrugged, then whispered. "Is this guy serious?"

"He looks serious. He has a gun."

"True." Raising his voice, Alfred slowly raised his hands, nodding to the policeman. "So. The boys in blue finally caught up with us, yeah?"

"It would seem so, pal." Ivan put an unnatural emphasis on the word, copying Alfred as the other man began to edge forward.

"Don't move! Any sign of resistance will be taken as an attempt to escape. Your crimes will go unpunished no longer."

Alfred chuckled, stopping short. "Get a load of this guy, Ivan! He's seriously been watching too many crime shows. Listen, buddy, life ain't as easy as you think it is. There's two of us. And one of you."

A flicker of fear crossed Yao's expression, and he moved to aim at Alfred. "But I have the gun. Both of you are unarmed."

"We have arms. I do not see your point." Ivan shrugged, making Yao turn sharply to face him again.

"No, I mean-I could kill you!"

"And we could kill you."

"You are the criminals, the scum of the earth, and I have been sent to hunt you down-"

"Sent? Scum? Alfred was right, you watch too much television. We are no more scum than you are. Besides, if you kill us in cold blood then you are no better than we, in your strange sense of morality. Tell me, policeman-do you believe in morals?" With his hands still in the air, Ivan studied the officer, tilting his head in an expression of innocence.

"I-of course I do, everyone believes in morals. Except for people like you."

"People like us? What are people like us?"

"Murderers! Killers, criminals, sociopaths! You endanger all of us!"

"Do we, now?"

"Yes! And it's my job to wipe you out."

"Not today, man." Suddenly, having edged around Yao while Ivan spoke, Alfred wrapped his arm around the shorter man's neck, making him choke. A quick jab with his knee trapped Yao in his grasp, and Alfred grinned as he pried the gun from the policeman's hand. "For an officer of the law, you are actually pretty shit at your job."

"But-"

"It was easy! Pathetically easy. You just kept talking…" Alfred shook his head, glancing down the man's trembling body. "Tell me, mister-do you want to live?"

"What? Yes, I want to live, please don't-"

"Ivan, the guy wants to live. But he was just threatening us with a gun. What should we do?"

Ivan raised one eyebrow, approaching the pair. "That answer is simple."

"You think?"

"You still have the gun."

"No, please-I want to live! I won't tell anyone about you, I swear, no one will know you're even here, or in Russia, no one has to know-"

"Wait. Alfred." Ivan held up a hand, studying the smaller man. "What do they know now?"

"Now? They know you're gone, and they know you were Russian-I put the pieces together, and I was already here, so-"

"You speak English."

"W-Well, yes, we have to for the job-I just assumed the both of you would know it-"

"Good assumption. Does anyone know you are here?"

The man hesitated, but a movement from Alfred made him wince before exhaling shakily. "Y-Yes. The unit knows."

"You do not lie well." Straightening, Ivan looked to his hand, then caught Yao off guard with a quick right hook. "Do they know?"

"No! I went independent for this job-I didn't tell anyone." Yao let his head sag, relaxing as he finally stopped struggling. Alfred shifted to keep a hold on him, then glanced to his hand.

"Can I kill him now?"

"Go ahead."

At their words, Yao suddenly glanced up again, eyes wide, but before he could protest the gun was pressed against his temple.

"Last words, little guy?"

"Please don't, please don't do this, you can't-"

The sharp sound of the bang resounded around the alley.

A few moments later, Ivan and Alfred stepped back onto the main street, Alfred angrily scrubbing at a stain in his jacket. "How did you say you got this stuff out?"

"Hydrogen peroxide."

"I see why we get 'em while they're sleeping, now."

"Exactly. Far too much noise otherwise."

From behind them, Kiku ran up, tapping Ivan's shoulder. "You just dumped a-" His voice lowered, and he pulled Ivan and Alfred aside. "body on my doorstep? What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"You have a friendly neighborhood, Kiku. You should have your methods." Ivan shrugged, gesturing around them. "He could not have picked a better place to corner us."

Kiku scowled, but shook his head, releasing Ivan. "Just don't forget to drop off what I gave you. You need to-"

"I know. I am not one to forget, malyutka."

"Again with this cloak-and-dagger stuff! Thanks, Kiku, for the help, but we're booking it out of here. It's just one body, you can handle it-" He ignored the shorter man's pointed glare, shrugging. "And we're on our way. C'mon, Ivan, let's go." Pulling at Ivan's sleeve, Alfred set off along the streets again, Ivan glancing back with a shrug as he bade farewell to Kiku.

As they walked, Alfred slowly wrapped his arm around Ivan's, humming faintly. "You think he was telling the truth?"

"At the end? Yes. No one else knows we even left the country."

"Yet."

"Of course. Yet. As he said, they will put the pieces together. But he most likely used our passports as a method of tracking us down. With new ones, we are safe."

"Mine's American, right?"

"Of course. It would be hard to get you through otherwise." Ivan sighed, glancing up at the dusky, clouded sky, hazy with smog. "I switched back to the Russian version. There is little difference, but…" He finished with a shrug. Alfred nodded in acceptance, quieting, then finally let go of Ivan as they returned to the hotel. Ivan moved to begin packing their things, scanning the small room, but Alfred's hand in his hair made him pause.

"Alfred?"

"Ivan…." Alfred smiled slowly, leaning against the Russian. "We don't have to go right now."

"Yes we do. You were the one who wanted to leave-"

"Yeah, but-we got a few minutes." Moving to trail a finger along Ivan's jaw, Alfred shifted to face him. "C'mon, Ivan."

Ivan glanced at him for a long moment, slowly processing, then shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly. You have no brain."

"Don't say that!"

"Fine. But I refuse."

"Ivan!" Alfred whined, leaning back against the dresser. "Please!" Ivan simply sighed, making Alfred pout. "Fine, I'll say it. I'm horny. Is it so much just to ask you to fuck me?"

"This is ridiculous. This is because of the policeman, isn't it? That small taste of blood was enough to get you started?"

"You know how it is. For me, at least. And it's been so _long, _Ivan, I'm begging you here-"

"No."

"But-"

"Alfred, if you turn all our hunts into your petty sexual…fetishes, I-" Ivan shook his head, folding his arms. "I thought it was more than that! You enjoyed the kill."

"I do, but I also like the sex afterward. C'mon, Ivan, it's not that hard-"

"Yes it is." Eyeing the shorter man, Ivan resisted the urge to smile. "Unless you managed to smuggle a container larger than three ounces containing gel on that airplane, both of us are stuck."

Alfred paused, disgruntled. "But there's-"

"This hotel does not carry shampoo, lotion, or liquid soap. Besides, I would not use them."

"You just do this to aggravate me, don't you."

"It makes you go all sputtery and pathetic, malyutka." Ivan grinned, patting Alfred on the head, then moved to begin packing their clothes again. Alfred watched him for a moment, annoyed by his lack of options, then moved to collect their items from the other room, resigning himself to yet another few days of travelling. And sitting.

He really hated sitting.


	9. Chapter 9

The train ride was boring, as most train rides were-Alfred managed to entertain himself for the first day of their trip, but the second day left him listless and bored, practically hanging off of Ivan's shoulder as the other man tried to read.

"Ivan, I'm bored."

"Then find something to occupy yourself with."

"I tried! Everyone else on this train's either older than dirt or still plays with dolls."

"I would have thought the latter would have appealed to you."

Alfred made a face, glancing at Ivan, then sighed reluctantly before flopping into the seat across from him. "And before you say it, I already tried sleeping. That only lasts for so long."

"You should have brought something to do."

"I'm not a kid, Ivan! Besides, at home it was always either go to work, prepare for work, or sleep to get ready for work. We didn't really have….leisure activities."

"We didn't, now?" Ivan raised an eyebrow, sticking a bookmark in his novel before setting it aside. "What did we do nearly every week?"

Alfred shrugged, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Well, it's hard to do that here….I mean, there's security everywhere, and we're in motion constantly."

"Excellent points. It is heartening to see you using your brain for once." Ivan smiled patronizingly, making Alfred scowl.

"Fine, smart ass. What do you want to do? You managed to finagle us through that hell of a boarding station-surely your great and wonderful mind is at a loss with only a mere book for company."

"Of course. You make a far better companion." Ivan nodded, looking to Alfred, then shrugged. "I watch the people. As I watch you."

"Creep." Alfred thought for a moment, then smiled. "Like what you see?"

"I always have."

"Unless we're on a deadline, then you can't spare me the time of day."

"Oh, please. You are still upset about that?"

"Just a little, yeah-" Alfred cut off as Ivan sighed, standing hurriedly. "Where are you going?"

"To get your head out of your ass." He replied shortly, glancing back as he gathered his book. "Come along."

"Ivan, what…" Intrigued, Alfred stood to follow Ivan, weaving through the train cars before returning to their sleeper car. "I already told you, I tried to sleep-"

"Please just shut up already." Ivan shook his head, turning to quickly stare at Alfred. Alfred swallowed, confused, then nodded, watching as Ivan tossed the book into the small compartment with their luggage, then pulled open the curtain separating their bunks from the hallway.

"If we cannot have our fun the usual way…we will have to do with the next best thing. Come."

At Ivan's invitation, Alfred stepped into the small compartment, waiting as Ivan secured the curtain shut again. "Ivan-I don't understand, what are we doing-"

"You keep acting like I forget you. So. I will endeavor to prove that is not the case." Ivan shrugged, spreading his arms wide. Alfred hesitated, thinking, then stared at Ivan as his eyes went wide.

"You're serious? You want to do it-here? Now?"

"As long as you are quiet, and we do not take too long, I do not see why not."

"Right, um…" Alfred shrugged, moving to sit on the bed. "Then have at it. You have stuff this time, right?"

"Of course. I had a little more warning." Ivan smiled, reaching into one of the drawers beside the cot in order to pull out a small tube, nodding to Alfred. "Clothes off."

"If you insist…" Alfred moved to remove his shoes and socks, tossing them under the cot, then worked his shirt off over his head. "This is really weird…I've never done it without, you know, offing someone first."

"So delicate, malyutka…use your imagination." Ivan watched as the blonde carefully undid his fly, shoving the jeans down to his ankles before letting his boxers follow.

"You know I'm crap at that. Just-"

"No. You 'just' be quiet, and let me do the work, yes? Now turn around." Ivan directed, kneeling on the bed beside Alfred before turning his attention to his own waist, unzipping the fly to massage himself through the cotton. Alfred, still apprehensive, carefully moved to prop himself on the bed in front of Ivan, glancing over his shoulder before sighing.

"I don't honestly see-" He cut off suddenly, feeling Ivan's hand against his back. "What-What are you doing?"

"Preparing you." Leaning over him, Ivan reached around Alfred's torso to run a finger up his sternum, soon pausing to graze his nipple. "Now-we start with blood."

"Blood?"

"Yes, blood, thick, and red, and warm-"

"Yeah, I remember-" Alfred tensed, leaning into Ivan's touch. "When you hit 'em just hard enough, or when-you were always really good with that, making the blood drip down from their necks while the heart was still going-"

"Ah, see! You do remember." Ivan smiled, supporting the other man before gently placing a kiss at his hairline. "Do you remember when I would cut the heart out, and let you play with it-"

"The brains were better." Alfred mumbled, closing his eyes in order to prop himself against the sheets. "You were always so careful, lifting them out like some goddamned surgeon-" He tensed suddenly, suppressing a gasp as he felt Ivan's fingers trace his entrance, carefully massaging the skin. "Oh my god, Ivan-"

"Ah, and you-you were always good with the saw." Ivan smiled, waiting a moment longer before shifting behind Alfred, pushing the fabric away from his waist to carefully align himself at Alfred's entrance. "The lovely rip, and tear, that symphony you specialized in-"

"Yeah, yeah, and when we were lucky-" Alfred shuddered suddenly as Ivan carefully inserted himself, pushing forward to meet Alfred's hips. "When we were lucky, they'd do that little choked scream, and we could look down their throats sometimes to watch their skin flutter, like a little trapped bird-"

"Did you ever look for the intestines? Or the muscle?" Ivan placed the gel to one side, moving one hand to Alfred's hips in order to pull him back. "The muscle is better, all stringy and resilient-and with the right tools, it just falls away, and you can tear it to find the tiny little bones."

"And the blood-Ivan, you can't forget the blood, that's the best part." Alfred smiled into the sheets, hands clutching at the fabric as he felt Ivan push inside him. "All red, and gooey, and it looks so nice against their skin-"

"Does it not? There is that strange beauty in the trails you can make, the little cuts and marks you can make to show that you know them-"

"Inside and out, you can see their smooth skin, and their blood, and the brains-my god!" Alfred moaned, arching his back, then felt Ivan's hand pushing him back down against the mattress. He squirmed momentarily, smiling, then began panting as Ivan increased his pace, driving them both closer. "Ivan, please, don't-don't stop-"

"Remember, malyutka-the red." Grinning, Ivan leaned over him, using both hands to maintain his pacing. Alfred's chatter soon ceased, segueing into a series of gasps and soft moans, until his body tensed, twitching before he came suddenly, bucking back against Ivan. The American buried his face against the mattress, riding his climax, then collapsed against the sheets while he reached down to massage his erection, grinding against Ivan. Ivan bit his lip as Alfred moved, then pulled him closer one final time to release inside him, leaning forward to place a hand against the mattress as he let his orgasm take its course. Finally, both of them panting, Alfred shifted to pull away from Ivan, turning over to take a tissue from the shelf.

"Shit. Does that hydrogen peroxide trick work on cum, too?" Glancing down at the sheets, Alfred winced as he sat up, carefully cleaning the liquid from his cock. Ivan simply smiled distractedly, staring at him, then moved to sit back against the opposite wall, shrugging.

"Not really. Soap and water does fine."

"Good, okay…" Alfred nodded, then moved to hand Ivan another tissue. "Um…that was…"

"You liked it?"

"I liked it. I just…I like the blood better."

"Right. Of course. I…" Ivan hesitated, pulling his pants back up.

"So-how long did that take?"

"About ten minutes. The average."

Alfred nodded, glancing out the tiny window of the compartment. "And how much longer to Moscow?"

Ivan smiled faintly, shifting back against the bed. "Approximately another one hundred hours."

"Well, then." Alfred tried to hide his smile, shrugging non-commitally. "I could get used to sex on a train."

**I apologize for the delay. Please take smut in recompense.**


	10. Chapter 10

Finally, after four days of watching fields, grass, and cities flash by outside the window, Alfred began memorizing the map provided in their compartment, counting down the miles to Moscow. Unfortunately, accompanying the map were a number of brochures, introducing visitors to Moscow and to Russia as a whole.

"Hey Ivan."

"What."

"Did you know that Russia spans 11 time zones?"

"Yes. It is actually quite annoying."

"Sure, sure. Did you know that Faberge eggs first came from Russia?"

"Yes."

"Cool. Did you know-"

"Alfred…"

"What?"

"I went to school here. I was forced to learn all this. _I know._"

"Sheesh, Ivan, calm down-"

"Are you bored?"

Standing, Alfred tossed the brochure away before nodding. "Well, duh! I'm not sitting here for my own entertainment!"

"Could have fooled me…" Ivan mumbled, moving to take the brochure. "They do not even broadcast the good stuff in here-were you ever a drinking man?"

"You mean alcohol? Before we hooked up I used to stop at the bars once in a while, but…nothing much, no."

"A pity. My sister might drag you clubbing."

"Like-in clubs?"

"Yes, in clubs. I wonder if she still does that."

"Ivan…" Sitting again, Alfred shifted to sit sideways in the chair, feet hanging over the armrest. "You never did tell me much about your sister."

"You did not need to know."

"Well-now I do. What's she even look like? She's younger than you, right?"

"By two years. She looks like me, of course."

"Right, right…"

"She, ah, endorses our hobby. She participates, from time to time."

"Really?"

"Yes. She helped me a great deal when I still lived here."

"Okay, um-what does she do?"

"Secretary. Nothing special."

"Okay, good to know-"

"She has an apartment. We will be staying there."

"Oh. Um. Is she okay with that?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Alfred. "You are questioning the fact that you will be able to spend your time in the same area as a single woman? Unhindered?"

"She's single?" Alfred sat up, then shrugged, hiding his enthusiasm. "Actually, never mind. She's, um, your sister…"

"It would not be strange." Ivan paused, then leaned back. "You can hit on her."

"But she….does what we do. Hitting on her could be dangerous." Alfred thought for a moment, then sank back in his chair. "Gah! How much longer are we stuck on this stupid train!"

"Not much longer. An hour. Maybe two."

"So what can I do?"

"Shut up."

"But-" Alfred cut off suddenly, facing Ivan's glare. "Fine. Shutting up."

"First one to talk loses." Ivan declared, folding his arms. Alfred raised an eyebrow, then nodded firmly, setting his jaw defiantly. They sat there, staring, for nearly thirty minutes, before Alfred suddenly got up. Ivan watched him go, amused, then waited until he returned several minutes later. Ivan raised a brow, which was returned with a shrug, and Alfred settled back down and pretended to sleep.

Fortunately for him, it was only a few minutes more before the train pulled into the city proper, and the call went out for the passengers to disembark. Alfred leapt up, taking his bags, then shoved his way out through the main doors to end up in the station. Ivan cursed quietly, trying to keep up, and eventually caught up with him as they ended up in the center of the terminal.

"So! What now!" Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Alfred glanced quickly around, taking in the sight. Ivan sighed, watching him, then shook his head.

"You lost."

"Suck it, the game ended once we got off the train. Anyway-"

"We wait for Natalya."

"Your sister? She's coming here?"

"Yes. We have no other means of transportation. Or money, for that matter."

"Wait-how much do we have?"

Ivan resisted the urge to sigh, instead looking to Alfred tiredly. "I had Kiku manage the basic conversions. But I did have to pay him. We have only a little left."

"Right, um-wow." Alfred paused, putting a hand to his chin. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry." Raising a hand, Ivan jerked his head up, beckoning to Alfred. "She is here."

"Natalya? Awesome, where-" Alfred rushed forward, almost grinning, then paused. "Is that her?"

"Yes." Ivan nodded to a slim woman, standing several yards away. "Hurry up."

"Whoa, Vanya, you didn't tell me-" Alfred broke off suddenly, leaning in. "You didn't tell me she was hot."

"I rarely know what you prefer in women." Ivan muttered in reply, nodding curtly to Natalya as they drew closer. "Sister. You look well."

"As do you, brother-and I must assume this is Alfred?" Her English, though heavily accented, was clear, and Alfred nodded before holding out a hand.

"Name's Alfred Jones, and it's a downright pleasure to meet you."

She stared at his hand with cool, dark eyes, then turned without touching the proffered appendage. "I have the car."

"We have a stop to make. Midcity. Then we can go."

"Of course." Natalya nodded, striding quickly ahead of the two men, and Alfred rushed to walk beside her.

"So, Natty, what's one thing you can tell me your brother wouldn't know?"

She glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow, then sighed. "Do not call me Natty. First order of business."

"Right, right…Natalya…so, um, what do you do for fun?"

She walked in silence for a moment, thinking, then nodded curtly. "Ignore men trying to hit on me."

"Ouch. You're even frostier than Ivan."

"You tried to hit on him?"

"I, um, well-I wouldn't say I tried to, I mean, there was very little flirting actually involved-"

"Alfred?" Ivan spoke up, eyeing the American.

"Yeah?"

"Please shut up."

"But why! Natalya and I were having a good time!"

"No. Please-"

"Just shut up." Natalya echoed her brother, and the siblings nodded as one. Alfred winced, hesitating, then resigned himself to silence, trailing behind the two Russians as they made their way to the parking lot. Natalya quickly led them to her car, letting them enter, then began conversing quickly with Ivan in Russian. He replied curtly, pointing momentarily as he sat in the passenger seat, then glanced back to see a disgruntled Alfred crammed into the back.

"Do not worry. It will not be far."

"It better not be." Alfred folded his arms, nearly pouting, then shifted to glance out the window, mind racing intently.


	11. Chapter 11

Finally, after days of travel and the tiring explanations-their pit stop on the way from the train station taking less than five minutes- they were home. Well, Ivan was home. And he was proud of that fact. Natalya had settled them into her spare/storage room, and while Alfred complained, he eventually got used to sleeping on the air mattress. Ivan could have sworn he even started using the Christmas decorations as a pillow. They were forced to share a bathroom, and Natalya often turned up her nose at cooking for them, but the arrangement seemed to function, which was the point. Ivan would drive her to work in the mornings, then look for any work of his own, whether it be a sign propped in a shop window or an ad in the paper. When the day ended, he would pick Natalya up again, driving them back home to find Alfred hunched over Natalya's laptop.

They conversed little, aside from Ivan and Natalya's curt conversations in Russian and Alfred's ramblings over dinner. While he wasn't the most technologically savant person for the job, he managed to keep ahead of the news channels, and eagerly reported that none of the international broadcasts were yet calling for Ivan Braginsky or Alfred Jones. His excitement, though easily prompted, proved contagious, and Ivan was surprised to see Natalya hide a smile while Alfred chattered. However, it was the third night, over a small meal of meat and potatoes, that the American eventually turned to more serious matters, focusing his attention on Natalya.

"So. Ivan tells me you're….well, that we share similar interests."

Natalya glanced at her brother, pausing. "No need to be so hesitant. Vanya and I used to do examinations together."

"Examinations, huh? We just call it the hunt." Alfred grinned, jabbing a fork into his potato. "Makes it more-"

"Brutal is the word you want." Ivan interrupted. "Natalya and I take a more introspective viewpoint of your little game."

"Our little game, 'Vanya'. We could have been famous, had we tried."

Natalya suddenly slammed one hand against the table, staring at Alfred. "Only I call him Vanya. You, you are some stranger, and you have no right-"

"Natalya." Ivan glanced at her, eyes hard. "Do not." She glanced at him, about to retaliate, then slowly relaxed, picking up her fork again. Alfred looked to the siblings in apprehension, eyes wide, before returning to his own meal.

"So, um-got any good stories? I mean, have you even gone out since the two of you…parted ways?"

Natalya shrugged, thinking. "I have kept it up. The set is in the closet."

"The set?" Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"She prefers knives. And was quite good."

"Still am, brother."

"Right. Well, she has her methods….are they the same?"

Natalya shook her head. "I was forced to buy a new set. Sharpening only lasts so long."

"Ah. Yes. So, Alfred's question remains…any stories?"

Frowning, Natalya slowly shook her head. "It has been straightforward. I once managed to seduce a man before examining his heart….but otherwise it has been the usual."

"Right…." Alfred examined her, standing to take his plate to the kitchen. "So-you don't have a boyfriend? Would their schedules clash with your examinations, or are all Russian men just boring?"

She rolled her eyes, moving to follow him. "You are sleeping with my brother. I think you would be better suited to answer that question than I."

Alfred blinked in surprise. "How did you know?"

"You just confirmed it." She smiled faintly, taking his plate. "There is a way he looks at you. And I doubt he would have put up with you long otherwise."

"What?" Suddenly somber, Alfred leaned against the counter. "You mean…what do you mean?"

"I mean he only takes an interest in people who are important." She quieted suddenly, turning her attention to the dishes as Ivan entered. He handed her his plate, nodding once, then glanced to Alfred.

"Were you planning on inviting her, Alfred?"

"Hm?" Suddenly snapping to attention, Alfred glanced at the taller man. "Oh. Um, sure, I guess. I mean, now that we're settled…I was hoping she-Natalya, I was hoping you could show us some of the better places to try. We always went for bums-"

"There is a school." Natalya nodded. "A number of shelters cluster around it-I usually go there. You can also try the clubs, although that is more risky."

"Great! So, ah….would you come with?"

She hesitated. "Yes. I can come. Three people will be more easily noticed, but a woman makes a good cover story." Ivan nodded, folding his arms.

"You have played that trick?"

"Once or twice. You would be surprised how dumb people can be when it comes to a woman."

"So, if we're caught, we just say we were…escorting her home, or something?" Alfred straightened, nodding. "And if they're still annoyed, you just tell them you're her brother! That's-that's actually kinda brilliant."

"Thank you." The siblings answered in unison. Natalya glanced back at Ivan, hesitating, then nodded to the hall closet.

"You will have to search for your own utensils. The knives, as I said, are in the closet." Ivan took the hint, turning to go, then pointed to Alfred.

"Come help me look."

"He is drying." Suddenly interrupting him, Natalya threw a dishtowel into Alfred's hands. "He should stay here." Ivan paused, but shrugged, leaving the two of them in the kitchen.

"So, um…" Moving to take the wet dishes from her, Alfred carefully began toweling them off. "I'm…important?"

"You take an interest in what he-what we do. You share that. It is not just about the sex." She nodded, handing him another plate. "My brother is not a man easily understood. He is confusing. Varied. One might say deep. You compliment him well."

"Did you just call me shallow?" Alfred smirked. "Thanks."

"No, no-I mean…." She trailed off, frustrated. "You are unique. You share the bloodlust, although stronger." She paused, concentrating on the plate, then suddenly spoke again. "Do you know why I never took a boyfriend?"

"Well, no, I…oh." Alfred thought for a moment, nodding. "They wouldn't understand."

"Exactly. I need no partner for my excursions-but to date or intimately know someone who…who does not know what I do-it would be the worst kind of secrecy. The utter effort expended to hide it would be insurmountable."

"What is it like for you?" Alfred questioned, watching her carefully. "Is the blood-does it make you happy? Excited? Fulfilled? Ivan always does it with such precision, but…there's still this gleam in his eye. He loves the art of it. Me, well-" He shrugged. "I get off on it. I think it annoys him, but the blood, the body, all of it-it makes me horny."

"Which explains how he started, then." Natalya commented. "I suppose I do what Ivan does. I watch them die. The beauty is fascinating. And then, if you cut right, they make no noise, and so they struggle fruitlessly while you hold their life in your hands. I become God. The power, the beauty-" She sighed briefly, thinking. "It is something to behold."

"So I'm the only one who…y'know…" Alfred shrugged uncomfortably. "Gets a hard-on whenever he watches guts fall on the pavement? I mean, sure, yeah, it's pretty and all, but…it just feels good, really."

Natalya shrugged, mirroring him. "My excursions take away the need-no, the desire for such things. I am still capable of sex-but the examinations take away my desire for it."

"So you're blood-sexual, huh?" Alfred smirked. "So I'm not all that strange. It's just that blood doesn't do it for me totally. I still really, really like doing it."

"Doing it?" Natalya questioned.

"Um, yeah, ah…getting down. Doing the dirty. Fucking, basically."

"Ah. Right." Natalya nodded, moving to stack the plates before putting them away. "I never thought Ivan would be into that."

"Well, I did have to beg. He wasn't gay…when you knew him?"

She scoffed, turning her back. "Gay is not a fad. But yes, he did seem more interested in girls. What of you?"

Alfred shrugged. "Not sure. I mean, I like both flavors….it's just that Ivan's the best one available at the moment." He watched her for a moment, thinking. "What if I slept with you?"

"What of it?" She turned back, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, my preferences? I do not care. I have not given it much thought. If I met a woman who shared my-our-love of the hunt, and could satisfy me…I would welcome her. As I would with a man."

"I…see." Alfred straightened. "So, I, as a man, share your love of the hunt…and I'm pretty sure I can satisfy."

She held up a hand to stop him. "You are sleeping with my brother."

"Yeah, but we're not in a relationship. We're just…friends."

"Who end up having sex."

"Basically, yeah. Ivan was my best option at the time. Now…" Alfred shrugged. "That could change."

Natalya rolled her eyes, walking out of the kitchen. "Wait for the actual hunt, Casanova. And if you are certain Ivan will not retaliate…we could try." She raised a hand to wave him off, leaving him staring after her as she disappeared. Alfred hesitated, slightly confused, then slowly let a smile steal over his expression, silently congratulating himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Alfred fidgeted in a poor attempt to keep his feet warm, hands tucked under his shoulders as he shivered. "Shit, how do you people put up with this? I'm freezing my ass off!"

Natalya glanced back at him sharply, motioning for him to be quiet. "We do not act like complaining little babies just because it is nippy. Grow some balls." Ivan echoed her sentiment with a curt nod, watching from their hidey hole as another car flashed by. Alfred scowled, sticking out his tongue as Natalya turned away from him, then sighed in resignation as the two siblings held perfectly still. Finally, Ivan straightened, nodding across the street before watching Natalya.

"Is this the place?"

"Yes. He finally showed up." She mumbled to herself in Russian, considering the alley. "Ivan, you should go in first. Incapacitate them. Then we can have our fun."

"Finally." Alfred sighed, picking up his new saw from the damp concrete. "Let's get moving."

"Wait your turn." Natalya admonished, placing a hand on his chest to hold him back even as Ivan dashed forward, a strangled scream echoing out from the alley before ending with a dull thud. After a moment, Ivan stepped out to wave to them, watching up the street as the pair made their way across. Finally, ensconced in the alley, Natalya and Alfred looked down at the two bodies, studying them.

"So, um-ladies first, I guess?" Alfred shrugged, silently looking to Ivan for help. "Ivan, did you wanna-"

"You two can go first. I think I will aim for the bones, this time…" He slowly nodded, crouching beside the bodies. "Alfred. You can watch me break them, if you want."

"Whatever. Like I've said, bones are boring. Dry, lifeless-" Grin spreading across his face, Alfred carefully lifted his saw to aim at one man's jugular, cutting through the skin and muscle like cardboard before striking bone. "Now this, the blood, this is the good stuff. Look!" Pointing at the wound, he watched in fascination as steam rose from the liquid, the cold air making the bloodied concrete seem ethereal. Natalya curled her lip, hands already moving across the other corpse, then carefully turned her victim over.

"Ivan!"

"What?"

"You broke their necks!" She complained, prodding the spine before sighing. "That makes this so much harder."

"You never complained before."

"I was able to use morphine before." She glared at him, stripping the man of his clothing. Eventually, she spread out the body on the concrete, pulling a knife from her skirt before plunging it between the bones of the hand. Alfred raised an eyebrow, pausing in his own work, then smiled as she carved with surgical precision from the neck to the center of the chest.

"You know, Ivan always does that too."

"Really. I shouldn't be surprised." She muttered, leaning over the body while she let the blood pool around it. "Has he showed you how tendons work?"

"Practically every time. They're not that exciting."

"Not true. But I digress." She shrugged, cutting at the base of the collarbone to begin exposing the ribs. "Ivan? You wanted the bone?"

"I can take Alfred's." He nodded, watching as she worked down the torso. "Did you want to see the liver?"

"I can take a guess, but it wouldn't hurt." She handed him a knife, moving to tie the man's arms together above his head. Ivan let her work for a moment, using the man's shirt as rope, then began working his way through the wiry layers of abdominal muscle, eventually exposing the abdominal cavity. Natalya, meanwhile, prodded the man's underarm, making a long slit down his side before plunging the knife in and twisting.

"Watch." She pointed to her victim's arms, the one she was closest to suddenly going limp. "See, even without the brain, the body is simply a system of pulleys and levers. Know which button to push, and you have yourself a formerly living automaton." She grinned, ignoring Alfred's stare, then finished the cut, finally abandoning the arm.

Alfred, meanwhile, had tried to focus on his own body, splitting it in half before letting it drain around him. The sickly sweet scent hung heavy around them, but the two Russians seemed to take no notice, concentrated only on the abdomen of their victim. Finally, Ivan glanced to him, nodding in contentment.

"Ah! Alfred. Good. May I?" He stood, moving to stand beside Alfred as he similarly straightened.

"Yeah, sure. I only broke the spine, there, but I didn't think you were too much into that anyway…"

Ivan waved him off, taking the saw from him to cut open the shoulder joint. "Oh. This one was lucky."

"Why?"

Ivan pointed to a large hole in the humerus, touching it gently with his glove. "A cyst. It may have been benign, but he wouldn't have the money to treat it. He wouldn't have been able to use this arm within a year or so. I'm sure he preferred a quick death rather to starving in the cold, in pain, suffering…"

"Yeah, sure, what are you, an animal shelter commercial? Just get it over with, the bodies are cooling." Alfred scowled again, glancing to Natalya's work. "Jesus Christ, you two should have been surgeons. Look at that. Not a drop spilled. Now where is the fun in that?"

Natalya rolled her eyes, pulling a small cloth from her skirt to wipe her knives off, then her hands. "Sometimes we prefer to watch, rather than feel."

"I know what I'd rather watch at the moment." Alfred muttered, staring at the body. She considered him for a moment, thinking, then shook her head.

"How Ivan ever dealt with you, I may never know." Handing Alfred a dark black garbage bag, she slowly pulled the body into a sitting position, letting the bag swallow the body from the head down, then carefully tucked the legs into the bag. "Industrial strength. We can leave them here. No one notices."

"Nice touch." Alfred nodded, moving to help her secure the bag. Finally, he took it to the end of the alley, depositing it beside a number of similar trash bags. Ivan glanced back at them, broken from his attentions to the body, then hurriedly took the bag offered to him by Natalya, stuffing the body inside before copying Alfred.

"So. There we are?"

"There we are." Alfred nodded, taking his saw back from Ivan to conceal it beneath his jacket. "I finally got to see the great Natalya Braginsky in action. Less…erotic than I pictured."

"Shush." Ivan quieted him, striding back to the entrance to the alley. He studied the lights for a moment, thinking, then nodded to them, leading the other two into the shadows.

"No, but seriously…" Alfred hung back, whispering to Natalya. "I thought you were going to…I don't know, do something really cool with those knives of yours. What gives?"

"I had nothing to tie him up with." She shrugged, concentrating on her steps. "When I go to the bridge, I can string them up. Toy with them a bit more. Watch them eat their own dick." A sudden grin flashed across her expression, making her eyes light up. "Maybe I can take you two outside the city. Have you ever burned bodies?"

Alfred shrugged. "We considered it once….acid, too, but Ivan never got around to it."

"Ah. We talked about acid too, together. Tonight was not so good, but maybe…" She trailed off.

"So, um-are we on for…you know?" Alfred watched her, perking up slightly. Natalya rolled her eyes, but nodded with a sigh, glancing to Ivan.

"If you insist. I cannot guarantee it will be good."

"Oh, trust me, you'll be fine." Alfred smiled slowly, straightening again.

"What are you two whispering about back there?" Ivan called back to them, waiting as they caught up.

"Us? Oh, nothing, nothing." Alfred shook his head, watching the taller man. Ivan studied him for a moment, thinking, then led them across the street to find Natalya's apartment again. All three ducked inside, relaxing slightly now that they had escaped the streetlights and noise, and Natalya moved to take their instruments before depositing them in her closet.

Ivan nodded to both of them, sighing before pulling off his gloves. "I, ah…there are some things I should take care of. Also, I need a drink."

Natalya nodded, waving him off. "Around the corner. Open all night. They usually have good stuff." Ivan nodded in thanks, arranging his coat and finding his wallet, then ducked back outside, letting the door fall closed behind him. Alfred watched him go, perplexed, then moved to reach around Natalya's waist, smiling down at her.

"So?"

"So what?" She challenged, unresponsive.

"Do we want to do it here or in your room?"

"If you are certain. You seem reluctant to let Ivan know."

"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right? He won't care. Trust me."

She sighed, leaning back. "You are hardly attractive."

"I love you too, sweet cheeks." Alfred shook his head, pulling her closer. "So what? It's not like we're the only ones keeping secrets around here."

"So you think Ivan is up to something as well?"

He shrugged, moving to lead her back into the apartment. "Who knows? I can never read him. He pulls off 'mysterious' surprisingly well."

"I am his sister. It is not so hard."

"Well, then-" Alfred leaned closer to her, finding the door to her room before opening it. "Why don't you tell me?"

"His deepest secrets?" Pushing him before her into the room, she roughly kissed him, slamming the door closed. "Never."

"And yours?"

"Not in a million years."

O

Fishing out his key again, Ivan stepped into the apartment, setting the bag in his hands aside in order to remove his boots. A muffled noise from deeper inside the apartment made him pause, listening for a long moment to determine the source, then glanced around the main room to find no one present. He shrugged, taking the bag into the kitchen, then slowly sat as he heard a dull thudding. Moving slowly, quietly, he took a bottle from the bag, opening it, and listened as the thuds grew more rhythmic, low moans soon accompanying the thuds. Eventually, muffled Russian curses streamed through the walls, drowning out the gasps of the accompanist. Ivan sighed faintly, taking a long draught of the 70% proof in his hands, then leaned back in his chair as a loud cry echoed through the apartment, followed by a sudden lack of noise.

Smiling faintly, he listened to the faint scuffling in the other room, the low speech, and finally the slamming of a door, panting soon audible from the hallway. To no one's great surprise, Alfred soon appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at Ivan as he tried to fix his rumpled shirt.

"I-Ivan! Hey!"

"Alfred." He nodded, holding up the bottle.

"I was just-just give me a sec, I'll-"

"No need to run." Ivan shrugged, glancing at him. "The walls are thin. It was obvious."

"Right, that, um-" Alfred shrugged, grinning in desperation. "It was just a-"

"She is my sister, Alfred, and as much as that may annoy me, she is still an adult. You are still an adult. I have no control over what you two do together."

"Yeah, but…you're not annoyed?"

He shrugged. "Why should I be? We were never in anything formal. Besides, I know how you are. Natalya is more to your tastes anyway."

"Sure, yeah…" Alfred moved to face him, glancing at the bottles. "Is that stuff any good?"

"It suffices." Ivan shrugged again. "So, in conclusion, I don't really care what you do. Just try not to keep me up, yes? And don't be surprised if she hits."

"Um…right." Alfred slowly nodded, sighing. "I'm…I'm gonna go take a shower…"

"Go ahead." Ivan waved him off.

"Okay, then, um-see ya." Alfred shrugged, watching Ivan cautiously as he exited the kitchen. Ivan chuckled to himself, shaking his head, then set to work on the rest of the bottle, letting the single light of the kitchen blur into the darkness.

**Ring in the new year with an attempt at gore. Sounds about right.**


	13. Chapter 13

After they had entered Moscow, and Alfred had wormed his way into Natalya's confidences, the trio began to spend their time absorbed in their respective hobbies-of course, the hunts were still the same, but Alfred spent more time on the computer, while Ivan took care of their utensils. Speech was kept to a minimum. Moaning and swearing, of course, were not off limits, and Ivan had taken to using a pillow over his head instead of under whenever Alfred spent the night in Natalya's clutches.

However, most nights he was able to avoid the mayhem, slipping out when neither of them noticed in order to wander the streets. He would return home in the morning bruised, sometimes bloodied, but Alfred never questioned his disappearances, and Natalya had never asked to begin with. It was only after a month or so, unfortunately a night when Alfred had elected to stay up in the main room, that Ivan was stopped, the American tumbling out of his blanket to approach the taller man.

"Ivan? Hold up a second, I had something to ask you…"

"Alfred, I have to go."

"Go? See, that's the problem! Go where?" Alfred adjusted his glasses, thinking. "You aren't hunting without us, are you?"

"Alfred, how often have I left?"

"At least twice a week, usually more."

"And how often do we hunt?"

"Once a week…"

"Why on earth would I be hunting?"

"That's the question! Is there something you're not telling us?"

Ivan scoffed. "It isn't like you to be so concerned. It is none of your business."

"Listen, Vanya-"

"Ivan."

"Ivan, you're the one who got me here, you're the one I-you're the first friend I've had in a long time, and-"

"Friend, or boyfriend?"

The question threw Alfred off, and he furrowed his brow before replying. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, have I been demoted to friend, or are we still together? Was that….something that happened?"

"What? No! I mean-we never officially got together, so-"

Ivan rolled his eyes. "I would have thought you begging me to fuck you was enough of an announcement."

"What? Wait, Ivan-" Alfred winced, shaking his head. "It's…it's not like that, I-"

"I have to go." Ivan tried to make his way toward the door again, but Alfred once again blocked his path.

"Hold it! Bastard, you distracted me-where do you go? Do you kill people?"

The Russian shifted, eventually shrugging. "Sometimes."

"Is it a hunt?"

"Not as we define it."

"Have you…found other people to hunt with? Is that it?"

"Not quite, no, it's-" He sighed harshly, glaring at Alfred. "Let me through."

"Let me come with."

"You'll be in the way."

"Of what?"

"Of-" Ivan massaged a temple, finally nodding. "Fine. Come with. But be quiet, and stay out of the way."

"Aye aye, captain." Alfred nodded, letting him through before moving to trail behind him. "So, where do we go?"

"The rendezvous point. Nowhere special."

"Wait, you rendezvous with these people? Who are they?"

"You will see. Now shut up!" Ivan glared at him, finally getting the point through to the blonde and was relieved to hear him fall silent. They walked in the shadows of the city, the noise of the cars overshadowing their footsteps, until Ivan turned to lead him into a small bar. Alfred glanced around at his surroundings, perplexed, then sat as Ivan sat in a small booth, opposite a hooded man.

The stranger stared at Alfred, finally asking Ivan a question in a quick spurt of Russian. Ivan shrugged, then replied in kind, watching Alfred before nodding. The stranger sighed, then shoved a piece of paper across the table, jabbing violently at imaginary space behind him before standing to go. Alfred blinked at the speed of the transaction, then looked to Ivan.

"You're a hit man."

"Shut up." Ivan stood to leave, tugging his jacket tighter as they headed outside again. Alfred tried to formulate a response, but failed, eventually stumbling as Ivan pulled him aside.

"I have favors to repay. This is the simplest method."

"Are you running drugs? Setting up brothels? What?"

"I do what we do best. There are a few people that needed disposal, and I know how to cover my tracks. We decided it would be easiest this way."

"We?"

Ivan sighed, bowing his head. "Getting new passports is not an easy process, Alfred."

"What are you saying?"

"Kiku had…items that needed to be delivered. I dropped them off when we first arrived. From there, I have been repaying our debt with my services."

"But-Ivan-" Alfred backed away, thinking. "What if you can't stop? What if they hold it over you forever, and-"

"Kiku is an honest man. And his employers have a sense of honor. I promise you, these will be the last few jobs."

"And you managed to do this for a month? How many people has it been?"

"It was not always that. I had to stand in as bodyguard once or twice, threaten a few…" Ivan suddenly grinned. "I don't think they know I can't use a gun."

Alfred shook his head, sighing. "So? What now?"

"You go home. You don't tell Natalya about this. And you let me do my job."

"But-I'm serious! What if it doesn't stop!"

"It will." Ivan growled, approaching him. "Now, either you go home, or I add you to the list."

Alfred paled, then grinned, chuckling faintly. "Good one! I was sold there, for a second, well done!" Ivan shrugged, scowl replaced with a small smile.

"I do try. Now, if I could-"

"Okay, okay, I'll go. But I want to hear about it when you get home, okay? I'll be up."

"It will be boring."

"I don't care."

Ivan shrugged. "If you insist. You know the way back?"

"Yes, Ivan, I'm a big kid. I know something of the city by now, I'll be fine."

"If you're sure. Don't get mugged. Or murdered."

"Right. Um, same to you." Alfred saluted, then turned to go, sighing. Ivan, a hit man? He supposed the idea wasn't too strange, after all-he was good at the hunt, so why not repay old debts with the talent? The fact that he hadn't told Alfred was a bit unsettling but…Alfred hadn't exactly been fair to him these past few weeks either. In either case, running drugs for some black market bigwig had to be more exciting than scanning news reports all day. Ivan was bound to have some stories.

Alfred grinned, resisting the urge to whistle to himself. His hit man, Ivan. Ivan, the hit man. Ivan "The Bear" Braginsky. Thinking up nicknames as he went, he wound his way back to the apartment, listening to the cars roar around him. Moscow was turning out to be more fun than he had imagined.


	14. Chapter 14

Arthur was-well, to put it simply-bored. He spun once in his chair, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the armrest, before sitting up with a start as the phone rang. With considerable enthusiasm, he quickly answered the call, reluctantly placing the phone back on the hook as the caller hung up. He sighed, unable to budge from his ennui, and listened to the chair squeak as it rotated.

Francis poked his head in the small room to set a cup of coffee on the desk, curling his lip at the other man. "There are men who would kill to be sitting in that chair, and you abuse it like a plaything."

"It is a plaything. At least, at the moment. After we stopped the bombing streak, it seems everyone's decided to lay low-both at home and on the continent."

"Yes, well-that may well change." Francis propped up a file folder on the desk, waiting for Arthur to scramble upright before continuing. "Our contacts among the Russian gangs have been drip-feeding us information. It's not much, but there's been a stir."

"You know we don't have jurisdiction, there's not that much we can do-"

"The threat of police action is enough to motivate these people. You remember that explosion in an American apartment complex about five months ago?"

Arthur hesitated. "Two suspects…ah, one about five eleven, the other-six two? Blonde, light-eyed, scrawny from the report we saw. You mean they popped up?"

"Not only that they popped up, but that they have resumed some…less than savory activities. They had fled the country, presumably to Canada, after the local police investigated a string of cleverly concealed murders. That's when we got involved."

"So-wait, give me a mo." Arthur pulled his chair forward to begin scanning over the file, nodding carefully. "'Trademark wounds have been discovered on the victims'? When did these guys have a style?"

Francis grimaced, shuddering as he sipped his coffee. "They have a tendency to…mutilate."

"Your trademark psychopath, then. I see. And the Russian police haven't decided to clue us in yet?"

"Our contacts were faster. InterPol is able to see what may be right under their noses a week before they learn." He grinned faintly, shrugging. "It is all in the organization."

"Sure, sure-and what are we supposed to do?"

"That is the fun part, _mon ami._" Francis carefully laid a small handgun on the desk, pushing it over to Arthur. "We get to flush them out."

O

"C'mon, Ivan, hurry up!" Alfred tugged at the taller man's sleeve, whining faintly in the growing chill. "It's nearly dark!"

"You are an absolute weakling." Natalya mumbled, unlocking the door of her apartment to let the three of them tumble inside. "I will prepare tea, coffee-"

"Coffee for me, thanks, but you don't have to bother." Alfred waved her off, seating himself on the couch to turn the television on. A news bulletin scrolled across the bottom of the screen, and Alfred let the white noise soak in as he began to flip through a series of English magazines. "That was new-I liked the light. Much better."

"It was a risk, Natalya, we should not have taken it." Ivan disagreed, weaving his scarf around the coatrack near the door. "We have to lay low."

"Don't listen to him, Nattie, we were fine!" Alfred called, propping his feet on the coffee table. "Honestly, it was great. Although there was no screaming."

"Never screaming. Never." Ivan stood behind the couch, drumming his finger on the cushion, while the news continued to play on the television.

"Ah, well, perhaps next time, Alfred." Natalya teased from the kitchen, letting the water boil for tea. "You know, you can make it so that they live and still struggle-without the vocal cords, of course, but-"

"Natalya." Ivan warned, raising a hand to cut her off.

"Ivan, please, I learned a lot when you left-"

"Shush!"

"Why?"

"Natalya, be quiet and listen!" Ivan gestured to the television as she entered the room, watching her expression as the news bulletin played. Alfred, uncharacteristically quiet, glanced at the siblings, sitting up after a moment. Ivan tensed before moving to the coatrack again, tugging down his scarf harshly before nodding to Natalya. "Alfred, begin packing. Find the passports, we need to leave."

"Passports, Ivan, that's a bit much-"

"Wait, what? What's going on, I only caught 'watch' and 'fishing results' and 'economy' from the news!" Alfred stood, letting his magazines fall. "What did you hear?"

"They can find us again. The description is circulating." Ivan moved into one of the bedrooms, beginning to pack the clothing. "Somehow, they found out we were here. We need to leave."

"Moscow, certainly, but not the country!" Natalya protested, folding her arms. "Go to one of the border towns, let things lie, and everything will be fine!"

"Nattie's right, we don't have to go too far. We can always come back, and after a year or two…we can go home." Alfred hesitated, hiding behind the couch. "Right, Ivan?"

The other man didn't reply, gathering one suitcase to bring it out to the main room. Natalya watched him for a moment, then moved to begin helping him. Alfred stared at the two speechlessly, gripping the back of the couch, before dashing into their shared room, angrily beginning to stuff clothing into another small bag as Ivan began to dictate instructions.


	15. Chapter 15

Arthur squinted as he stood over the body, letting the coroner examine the corpse while he waited for Francis to return. After some time, he moved to return to the car, letting the cluster of reporters flood the scene. He let the other officers duck in, confirming or disproving some theory he had had concerning the victim. Actually, victims-two more had been found farther down the way, hidden in a garbage heap. Each bore the mutilation of various instruments, but one had been hacked to pieces, while the other two had been sliced with surgical precision. Each bore the mark of more than one attacker-that much fit Arthur's profile of the two Americans. However, the fingermarks lifted from the bodies were giving a much larger picture, and the Russian police were beginning to call in reports of bodies found around the city.

Francis had found the bodies amusing, even if he had to turn away as they were revealed, and the Frenchman was busy considering a number of different possibilities while Arthur tried to think. Eventually, in slight annoyance, he reached up to snatch the file from Francis's hands, flipping through the descriptions of the two men. "There's something we're missing."

"Missing, it has to be them! We sent out the warnings, the entire country is on the lookout for them-the pattern matches exactly!" _We can't afford to be wrong!_, the unspoken implication behind Francis's words, didn't escape Arthur's attention, and he nodded half-heartedly before noting something on the file.

"Both our boys have siblings. Is there any possibility that they stayed with them?"

"The one is still in America. He hasn't had contact with the suspect since they were teenagers."

"And the Russian one?"

"Older sister…it should say, died in her early twenties-the other one still lives here in Russia."

"Has anyone contacted her?"

Francis hesitated, answering Arthur's question. The shorter man scowled, folding up the portfolio again, and shoved it back in Francis's direction. "We didn't need to bother with the search if the brother's with his fucking sister."

Francis opened his mouth, about to speak, but hesitated as he tried to figure out the sentence. "Wait, what? What about the American?"

"They're partners, they'll need to stick together. And if they found refuge, well-wolves enjoy their packs, don't they. The bigger question is how they got out of the country if the border was secured."

"They did have the advantage, Kirkland. Also, we have evidence that they have false identification."

Arthur tensed, but nodded as he stepped out of the car. "The mole?"

"The mole. He doesn't know the suspect's real name, but recognized the mutilation reported by the American media. You know they kept finding bodies-"

"Everyone knew, it was the worst kept secret of the news." Arthur waved him off, glancing at the three victims. "Any ID?"

"Two were local bums, but no one's been able to find positive identification-the third was heavily intoxicated at the time of death. As far as we know, he's a steelworker in a plant not far from here, unless the ID was planted."

Arthur nodded, eventually sighing before beckoning to the car. "Intoxication sounds good. Christ, but it's freezing out here-do what you need to, then check back at the hotel. I need an aspirin."

O

The two men had hardly spoken a word since leaving the train station, seated beside each other in stony silence as they headed further south. Other dialects began to pepper the air around them with traces of Polish, Ukrainian, and Belarusian Russian, piquing Alfred's interest. However, he resisted the temptation to ask Ivan for specifics, and let the taller man make the accommodation arrangements, eventually tossing his suitcase onto the bed as they found their bedroom.

Ivan seemed to ignore him for the most part, which suited Alfred just fine-however, without Natalya to intervene, very little communication actually took place. For example, they somehow ended up with two orders of take out, and thus had twice as much food as they actually needed, the leftovers sitting in the refrigerator. Ivan managed to find the remote first, and insisted on watching the news, leaving Alfred to try and read the hotel directory for some sort of entertainment.

They had managed to survive for so long without speaking, but Alfred was trying to find a way to break the ice properly-addressing the "What the hell is your problem" question that was plaguing him-when the door opened. Being their third day out of Moscow, Ivan had decided to go shopping properly, and Alfred sat up to open the door for him when he hesitated.

"Um-you're not Ivan."

"No. I'm not." Natalya shrugged off her coat, folding it over her arm to lay it aside, then strode into the room before sighing. "Of course. Just like him not to be here."

"Wait, why do you need him-why are you here?"

"I've got surveillance on the apartment now. I rented a car, and came here."

"Bringing the surveillance with you?!"

"Don't be stupid. Of course I didn't." She kneeled to glance at the refrigerator, pulling out the leftovers of the takeout before stuffing it in the microwave. "Mind if I…"

"Um, no, not at all, but-"

"Good, I've been driving non-stop to get here." She waited for the device to quiet, then pulled the food out, locating a plastic fork before taking a large bite.

Alfred stared at her, unable to speak, when the door opened again to let Ivan in. He didn't seem to notice his sister, but eventually glanced up before stopping short.

"What is she doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, brother."

"Did you ask her to come, why is she here? She could be implicated-"

"It's too late for that. They know you were staying with me. I may already be a suspect." She nodded, taking another bite. "I had to come."

"Not with us! You could have gone to Odessa-"

"And been cornered when they caught up? No, if we stay together, we can help each other. It's simple."

Ivan scowled, but set the plastic bag on top of the microwave, leaving her to deal with it as she ate. Alfred moved to speak, approaching Natalya, but a glare from both siblings made him pause.

"So, ah-I heard Belarus was supposed to be nice this time of year?"


	16. Chapter 16

From there, it took some time to get over the border, crossing first into Poland before making their way down into the Ukraine. Alfred hid behind Ivan and Natalya as they weaseled their flimsy passports past the border guards, but managed to keep their food supplies well managed as they traveled. The news reports died down as they left the former Soviet Union, but more than once their little group attracted some strange glances. Ivan relayed the full danger of their situation to Alfred as they caught the news reports, but for the most part Alfred preferred to remain unaware of exactly how many policemen were after them.

"We simply have to wait for the fuss to die down." Ivan repeated again and again, annoying both Alfred and Natalya whenever he answered their questions with the phrase. "A few months, maybe a year, and we can return to America. Natalya can go back home."

When time permitted, Alfred and Natalya managed to steal intimate moments together, waiting for Ivan to leave or simply ducking into the bathroom. Their unions were brief, but satisfactory-Alfred even termed it 'business-like' as they abandoned one of their many hotels. Natalya said nothing, but silently agreed, appreciating the physical aspect of the relationship while disdaining the emotional.

Ivan kept his peace about the situation, but leapt at any chance to go hunting, instigating it far more often than Alfred was accustomed to. Natalya tried to reason against it, but the blood lust wasn't easy to deny, and in the heat of the moment the siblings could destroy a man in a matter of moments. Alfred began to worry for his own safety, especially as his own desire for the hunt waned, but reassured himself. Everything would be fine once they got home. When they crossed this border, once they got through Europe-

Everything would be fine.

O

Arthur grew irritated easily. Francis was used to that. But this case tended to irritate him more than most.

"Bloody ear of Judas, Francis, how could these two-these three!-make it across? Are the Russians bigger fools than I imagined, or am I asking too much?"

"Tone, Arthur." Francis cautioned, comparing a stack of files to a single folder. "We are on foreign soil-"

"They can bloody well hear me, I don't care! Did you hear that, bastards? I don't care!" Arthur ranted at the ceiling for a moment, then sighed. "What's taking you so long?"

"They don't have the technology we have, Arthur, I must do this by sight."

"Another bloody hold up."

"If you stopped cursing and helped me, it might go faster."

"We have interns for this!"

"Back in Paris, Arthur, back in Paris."

Arthur grumbled, putting a finger to his temple to massage it lightly. After a while, he sat across from Francis, taking a file to scan it. "After all, what's one more desk job?"

O

"Ivan-Ivan, please-"

"Alfred is right, we must leave him!"

"Do you know how long you have denied me? If we must be stuck together, the two of you rutting like pigs when you think I can't hear, then at least let me have my fun!" Ivan struggled away from their grasp, folding the small knife to slide it into his pocket. "It isn't so bad. They will blame the wolves, there are a great many of them out here-"

"It is an unnecessary risk, Vanya!"

"Do not call me Vanya!"

From there, the two siblings launched into furious Russian, leaving Alfred to clean up the…former hobo they had run into. He supposed Ivan had a point-unable to hunt properly left them stifled. And he and Natalya had found better ways of utilizing their energy.

Was Ivan still angry at him for that?

No, no, of course he wasn't, they had gone over this in Moscow. Ivan wasn't the type to hold grudges. It was just sex, after all. Harmless fun.

Still, being cooped up on trains and in various rental cars probably didn't help the situation. But then Ivan had to lash out and do something….something like this-it was so unlike him! To attack at will, with no thought to the danger or the risk! Always, Ivan had held Alfred back, had prevented him from exposing their activities, but now Natalya had to redirect her own brother. Alfred wasn't sure how much longer they could last.

He might even come to accept that incarceration would be better than having to contain Ivan by himself.


	17. Chapter 17

It was the blood pounding in his head, the sudden, thrilling rush, the blood inside and out.

He swung again, ignoring the hands clawing at his shirt. Their screams were not his business, their pain not his concern. He drove them on, disregarding the thick blood staining his shoes. What was human pleasure if humans couldn't add something to it?

He smiled.

The iron pipe bent and twisted under the pressure, complaining in his hand as he finally saw the body still. The life had gone out of the battered corpse, and he was now left with the blood. As if from a distance, he could hear the confused murmurings of his companions, their concern and worry as evident as the dawn. They were beneath him, they couldn't understand. He had moved on, and they had remained behind, caught up in their lust and their grimy earthy-ness.

Ivan, though, was divine.

Unable to budge the obstinate Russian, Alfred beckoned for Natayla to take care of the body cooling on the pavement, shielding the three of them from the traffic. Natalya's eyes were wide, frantic, and Alfred had never seen her move so fast as when she pulled her brother aside. With some difficulty, they managed to get him back to the hotel, ushering him in through the back door before relaxing in their room.

"He's never-I mean, this isn't-"

"It's not healthy for him. Or for us."

"I don't know what the hell is going on, Natty." Alfred paled, watching Ivan shake himself into recognition, then disappear into the bathroom. "He's starting to scare me."

"More than you, Alfred-more than you."

O

Natalya had managed to hide her growing concerns well, but with Ivan falling behind on the planning side of things, she was forced to admit one crucial fact-they were being pursued. The authorities had gotten more insistent, and when the countries got smaller, the cops got bigger. With Alfred lost in the mess of Polish and Hungarian that surrounded them, Natalya was pushed into the limelight again and again to buy off train conductors, travel agencies, and hotel concierges as they fled across Eastern Europe. And in the dark of the night, when she pulled the blankets up over her head and tried not to worry about Ivan, she knew the truth.

She was afraid.

Her concern hardly abated when they finally arrived in East Germany, Alfred guiding Ivan along the streets to prevent him from barging through the crowds. The people here were more traditional, their quiet accents and manners making Natalya feel slightly more comfortable, and she allowed herself a smile as they found a place to stay.

The discovery of a body in Vladivostok had worried her, but Alfred pointed out that it could throw the coppers off their trail. Reassuring herself over and over, she let herself relax, no longer worrying about the authorities and instead turning her attention to her brother. Unresponsive, quiet, and uncharacteristically spontaneous, he had become more of a liability than ever, and his outbursts were harder to contain. He wouldn't listen to reason. And when her greatest weapon was taken away, well-

Natalya hesitated to even set foot outside their hotel.

O

Arthur swore as he glanced over the photographs of the scene, the guts and gore hardly bothering him as he hurriedly rearranged the pictures. Francis took notes from a corner as Arthur paced, mumbling aloud to let his mind wander.

"And we have no clue what they might look like, or think, or act like?"

"We have the descriptions from the American police. But no, other than that…I know nothing about them."

"Well, wonderful for you. They're moving fast, we know that much."

"And the sister may be with them. She and the brother may know enough languages to hide them."

"And these killings aren't gang-related?"

"No. They choose victims at random, more so now that they've left Russia. They were careful in America, which is why they hid for years. Movement disturbs them."

"So we might be close, might be able to catch them in the act if we chase them long enough?"

"Perhaps." Francis shuffled his files, handing one out to Arthur. "There's the report from Williams you wanted. And a detail on the Vladivostok victim."

"Yes, yes-you don't think they've doubled back, do you?"

"To Vladivostok? It makes no sense. Besides, the coroner's report will explain the timing. They must have killed the man during their crossing."

"How is it that the finest police task force in the world is stumped by two madmen-no, three, now-with hacksaws!"

"Simple, Arthur." Francis sighed, getting to his feet to glance at the photos. "We have no chance of knowing how to think like them, while they have everything they need in order to think like us."

O

"Hey, watch it!" Alfred winced as a man brushed past him, rubbing the bruise on his shoulder as he followed Natalya. "Slow down, Natty, this isn't exactly easy, you know."

"I don't much care, Alfred, so shut up and keep up, or-oh!" Colliding with a tall man, Natalya stumbled back, Alfred moving to catch her and failing miserably. The other man grinned down at her, eyes glinting in the sunlight, and bowed.

"My apologies, m'lady-Russian, I take it? We don't see many of you."

"We're simply passing through." She tried to move around him, but scowled as he grasped her wrist.

"Can I have a name for such a beautiful face?"

"Natalya. Natalya-Arlovskaya."

"And your friend?"

"Oh, I'm Tim. Timothy, um-" Alfred fumbled with his wallet for a moment, nodding. "Timothy Rogers. American."

"Right, of course…" The other man nodded as he studied them, finally releasing Natalya. "I'm Gilbert. Last name doesn't matter, only the fact that I-" His thumbs jabbed into his chest, emphasizing his own importance. "-am the best guide to this city you could find, and the best friend a guy could have. What do you say, do we have a deal?"

"Thank you, but no thank you, we need no assistance." Natalya tried to push past him, but froze as she felt his hand on her upper arm.

"You think I don't know who you are? Listen, I'm not here to cause trouble, but I can get you out of here for a price."

"I don't know what you're-"

"Stop it, you think everyone buys hydrogen peroxide in a foreign country? No, Natalya, you've got bloodstains that need to be washed, and this ain't from any nosebleed. You're the ones on the news." Gilbert nodded, holding up his free hand as Natalya began to struggle. "Hey, listen! I just said I wasn't gonna turn you in! I can get you out of here, if you promise to take me with you. I don't care where you're going, just drop me off along the way."

"Natalya-Natalya, wait, calm down. This guy's making sense." Alfred moved to join her, nodding as Gilbert released her again. "I say we take him up on it, I mean-we don't speak German."

"How do I have your word?" Natalya eyed him warily, watching as he nodded quickly.

"Here. Take this." He fished in his pocket for a moment, handing her a small metal X to let her examine it. "It's a family heirloom, and it's-well, it's one of the few things I call mine. The moment we're out of the city, I'll take it back, but for now-keep it safe."

"How do you I know you won't just kill us and steal it back?"

"Hey, now, I could never bring myself to kill such a pretty woman." Gilbert smiled again, bowing. "Now, do we have an arrangement?"

Natalya sighed reluctantly, slipping the X into her pocket before nodding. "Yes. We have a deal. Your first task is to get out of our way, lead us out of this damn market, and-" She hesitated, watching him. "You wouldn't happen to know of a confidential doctor who might help us, would you?"


End file.
